


The Worth of Being Human (or, Engineering Love)

by SupposedToBeWriting



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Academy Era, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, First Meetings, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:28:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 70,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28030047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupposedToBeWriting/pseuds/SupposedToBeWriting
Summary: It's Cadet La Forge's first year at the Academy and his only goal is to be the best engineer that Starfleet has ever seen. On his first day, he meets the most unusual student that's ever attended the Academy - a highly advanced android named Data. As the two grow closer, however, it becomes apparent that certain cadets don't want Data to succeed ... and will go to catastrophic lengths to stop him.
Relationships: Data/Geordi La Forge
Comments: 83
Kudos: 147





	1. First Day

_It’s my VISOR. It stands for ‘Visual Instrument and Sensory Organ Replacement’. I’ve had it since I was 5._ _It helps me see. I can see the entire electromagnetic spectrum with it, so no, I don’t see ‘just’ like you. No, you can’t wear it._

Geordi recited the speech silently in the mirror as he fidgeted with his cadet uniform. He knew people would ask. Plated in shiny gold and silver, the VISOR sort of … stuck out in the general population. It wasn’t even that Geordi even _minded_ the questions necessarily. He’d been studying the VISOR since the day he put it on his head, knew it inside and out. Hell, it was practically the reason he wanted to _go_ into Engineering in the first place.

That, and one chief engineer that let him hang around the engine room to his heart’s content during one parent’s amazing assignment. He’d gotten to touch a warp core that summer, and it’d been _amazing._

Five years after that, his childhood dream had come true. Acceptance into Starfleet Academy, not that his parents had had any doubt. Engineering track, baby, and he was going to be the best Engineer that Starfleet had ever seen. Legendary.

And yet.

He was going to throw up. He’d thrown up last night, but he was definitely going to throw up before he headed off to his first class. The nerves hadn’t dissipated that much in between.

Somewhat dizzy from it, Geordi propped himself up against the wall of his dormitory bedroom to get his bearings. It wasn’t like he was a shy guy, normally. He figured he was friendly. Sociable. Not too bad-looking, if he did say so himself. And he had a strategic advantage, here, having just stepped off a Starfleet starship. He had a list of names in his pocket, instructors and professors that his parents knew and made him promise to say hello to. That was more than some people had, coming here.

But his strategic advantage was also a social liability. He’d been on Starfleet assignments for as long as he could remember. He was a Starfleet brat. He’d spent more time up in the stars than down on the ground. Getting used to the sky up above him again was weird. The ground, solid beneath his feet. How _big_ everything was.

He also … didn’t know anyone here his age. His last assignment had been with his dad, and they’d been on the _USS Lovelace_ for a year and a half while Geordi took his qualifying exams. He knew everyone on that ship. He’d broken up with his sort-of not-really boyfriend (admittedly, the “relationship” had lasted a debatable three weeks), but there had only been 15 people his age on the vessel. They could all fit in the lounge.

And now, he was in Starfleet Academy. Enrollment … eight thousand? More than any starship he’d ever been on, that was for sure.

_Gonna be sick gonna be sick gonna be sick gonna be sick wow wow wow._

Eager to distract himself, Geordi reached for his PADD to review his schedule for the day. He’d already made decent headway into most of the textbooks. His _Basic Warp Design_ class was going to be a laughable breeze, _Diplomacy for non-Command Track_ a little daunting, _History of the Federation_ a total snore. He was going to be _okay._ Friends or no friends, the end goal was to get a good placement, and he was confident he could do that. His next task was to reach for his communicator, whereupon he saw a message from his parents reflected on the digital screen. They must’ve sent it while he was in the sonic shower.

_You’re going to be a Starfleet rockstar, honey! They won’t know what hit them. We’re so proud of you. Love you bunches, Pops + Ma_

To his mortification, tears started to gather in the corner of his eyes. Geordi detached his VISOR temporarily to dab a tissue at them. _You are eighteen years old, Geordi La Forge, stop crying because of a nice note from your parents. You’re not a baby._ After all, he just had the weight of the intergalactic universe on his shoulders and the expectations of two spectacular parents. Maybe there was pressure, sure, but also steadfast, unshakeable support. They balanced out.

“Uh.” Geordi muttered to himself, to nobody in particular, as he reattached his VISOR. “Oh, man. Okay.” He straightened his collar again and looked at himself in the mirror. _Rockstar. Rockstar rockstar rockstar rockstar._ He finger-gunned himself in the mirror, attempting a confident smile, before heading out the door to his first class at Starfleet Academy.

***

The classroom was designed amphitheater style, a half semi-circle of desks facing the professor and her three classroom boards. Geordi shuffled in with the other hundred or so students. He felt his ears burning. It was hard to tell whether anyone was actually staring at him, but it sure felt like 200 eyes were absolutely staring at him, all internally whispering: _Who’s the weird guy with the shit in front of his face?_

Struck with the options for seating choice, he stared at the amphitheater. A natural, anxious urge hit him to sit in the back. Sitting in the back, absolutely nobody would be looking at him. But Geordi La Forge _never_ sat in the back, and before he could let his nerves get the better of him, he sat in one of the desks in the very front. _Basic Warp Design._ He could do this in his sleep.

When he’d been five, just a few months after he’d gotten the VISOR, his mother had led him by his hand to the engine room. Technically, he wasn’t allowed there – he was just a kid, after all, but very few people _ever_ said no to his mother. And besides, it wasn’t like anyone could say no to _him,_ either, looking up at the engine core with his new sight and just _beaming_ with his chubby little cheeks _._ The colors had been _beautiful,_ and Geordi had exclaimed as much. Nobody seemed to understand what he meant by it.

Of course, now he could understand that he’d been looking at something in the UV spectrum, that they just _wouldn’t_ see it the way he could. But as a kid, he’d been certain – and furious – that everyone was playing a practical joke on him. Why couldn’t they just _see_ it? If everyone could see what he saw, Geordi had a hard time believing people would go into anything _but_ Engineering track.

“Welcome to Basic Warp Design,” the middle-aged Andorian woman drawled in a low monotone. She carefully drew her name on the board, and Geordi saw a few dozen people scribble it down on their PADDs. Geordi looked at the pen in his hand. _It’s literally on the schedule. But do I look lazy for not writing it down?_ “A show of hands – how many of you are Engineering track?”

Geordi’s hand went up. And so did, it sounded, like everyone else’s in the room.

The professor smiled. “Well, I wouldn’t suppose you’re all Command track looking for an easy mark.”

 _Yeah, no. Command track is for the hero wannabes._ A few polite chuckles filled the room. She folded her hands behind her back, taking a few steps forward. “Warp design is how we operate, cadets. I certainly wouldn’t be standing here today without it – and I imagine most of you wouldn’t be, either. How many of you are from Earth?”

That was a hell of a question for Geordi. Sure, he’d been born in Mogadishu. Sure, he’d lived on Earth for a year or two at a time. Once he lived with Arianna for six months. But for the most part, he’d been aboard this-or-that starship, or this-or-that colony or starbase or small asteroid cluster.

Maybe he was overthinking it, that was all. Geordi raised his hand, as did about half the classroom.

“Good. I, as you might imagine, am from Andoria.” The round of chuckles that skipped across the classroom were more hesitant this time. “For those of you who have never left Earth, you’ll find that Starfleet welcomes all. We do not merely _tolerate,_ as one would a rotten tooth. From wherever planet you come from – from whatever species you are – from whatever your background – there is a role for you to fill. You, as does everyone, belong here.”

_Please don’t be saying that because you’ve noticed a blind guy in the front row. Please don’t be saying that because you’ve noticed a blind guy in the front row. Please don’t be saying that because you’ve noticed a blind guy in the front row._

Still, beyond Geordi, the classroom admittedly seemed somewhat more at ease. The Andorian paused, before turning her back to the class. She faced the board. With one finger, she wrote down the term ‘pre-assessment’. The class groaned back into their chairs while Geordi shifted forward in his.

“Don’t make that noise, you sound like an Andorian woolly bear. It’s verbal. I only want to know what _you_ know – and I think I’ll be able to get a pretty good idea from the looks on your faces. Now,” the professor cleared her throat. “The inventor of warp drive?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Geordi saw someone’s hand shoot up. They were in the front row, with him, but Geordi couldn’t see much more than the brief motion. Behind his VISOR, Geordi rolled his eyes. _Come on, everyone’s going to know this. No need to raise your hand, buddy._ As he expected, the entire class muttered out an answer with varying degrees of confidence: “Zefram Cochrane.”

_Zefram Cochrane High School, class of 2353, baby._

“Correct, as I would hope.”

Down the row from him, the same person’s hand went down. The professor smiled knowingly to herself. “I _will_ take hands for this. Can someone give me a brief, _basic_ description of how warp drive works?”

The same person’s hand shot up out of the corner of his eye again. _Whoever they are, they have good reflexes. Man._ Geordi rose his hand, as did a few of the others – again, with varying degrees of confidence. Nobody wanted to give a beginner’s definition in front of an expert. _I’m at least an intermediate,_ Geordi told himself reassuringly.

“I saw yours first. Go on, cadet.”

Geordi turned to looked at the early-bird hand-raiser.

“Holy shit,” he muttered under his breath, because _that guy was absolutely not human._

If the slightly-yellow, glittery exterior didn’t throw him off, seeing his inner workings beneath it definitely did. Geordi couldn’t exactly X-Ray him; the VISOR’s frequencies were a little too low for that, but with a quick conscious filter of his settings, he could see the intricate parts underneath. Geordi minutely and mentally did so without hesitation.

And, inside him, Geordi saw a complex design of interlocking motherboards and wires and circuits and servos, too much for Geordi to visually pick apart, but he could see that this man – this _android_ – was firing off on all cylinders. The guy could probably power a small shuttle with his output. And he couldn’t even begin to make sense of what was going on in his head; while Geordi figured himself to be intelligent, this guy was the most advanced bot he’d ever seen.

Flicking back into his regular vision, Geordi had to wonder what the hell a robot (an _android?)_ was doing here, wearing a cadet uniform like everyone else. Like he was enrolled in the Academy instead of someone’s pet project. It was then that he noticed he wasn’t the only one staring. A few cadets were whispering directly behind him, sneaking glances. And no wonder – Geordi had _never_ seen an android that advanced before. His eyes flicked up to the android’s hair – so realistic, although styled with the same precise calculation that he’d expect of someone of the mechanical persuasion.

The cadet nodded in understanding. “A warp drive generates a warp field in the form of a subspace bubble around the starship and immediate local area. This warp field temporarily suspends certain classic rules of physics, enabling the starship to travel at faster than light speed.”

“That is correct, Cadet …?”

She trailed off, and the cadet did not respond. Instead, he looked at her with curious misunderstanding, before she clarified. “What is your name, cadet?”

“Ah. Data, sir.” This guy was named _Data?_ That had to be some sort of bizarre joke.

“Only Data?”

“Do I need another name?” It was stated genuinely enough, but it still caused a ripple of chuckles to flow through the audience. In confusion, Data turned around and cast a curious eye around the room. Geordi met his eyes for a second before he turned back towards the professor who, herself, was trying not to laugh. He could almost see it written on the cadet’s face – _I do not understand._

“No. That’s fine. Thank you, Cadet Data. Now. Can anyone tell me which device generates the warp field?”

Geordi bolted his hand up in the air again, but he was a few seconds too short. Data’s hand was already up the _millisecond_ ‘field’ had left the professor’s mouth. The professor gestured towards Data again.

“Field coils, sir.”

“Located where?”

“Warp nacelles, sir.”

“Correct.”

Oh, the game was _on._ Geordi knew there was no prize at the end of the day, nothing that meant he would _win,_ but he was not about to get beat by a bucket of bolts. No way, no how. Friendly (or perhaps not so much) competition flowed through his veins as he metaphorically cracked his mental knuckles. He furrowed his eyebrows and rested in his seat, ready.

“Can anyone tell me what powers the reaction core?”

 _Shit._ Too late. Mostly all hands went up, but they just couldn’t beat Data’s reflexes. Data patiently kept his arm all the way extended, unaware that his unusually stiff posture made the cadets burst into laughter behind him. Geordi lowered his hand, scowling. He knew it was stupid at best and an asshole move at worst, but for some reason, he already felt like he was _in a contest_ against this guy. He was fully expecting to be the brainiac in the class, but how could he expect to compete against a synthetic life form?

Why was Data even present? What duty did an android have with Starfleet Academy? Even other androids Geordi had seen were capable of downloading anything they needed to know, it wasn’t like this one had to _learn_ anything here.

The professor shifted her attention to another cadet, who answered the question correctly. She seemed to be aware of Data, now, and intentionally ignored him raising his hand. Data’s face did not change as she did so, instead slowly lowering his hand whenever another cadet was called upon.

To Geordi’s steadily growing frustration, four more questions passed. Each time, no matter well Geordi knew the question, he just couldn’t beat Data’s reflexes. The last syllable would leave the professor’s mouth and Data’s hand would be up, as if he knew the answer to the question before she even finished. Hell, maybe he did.

He looked back towards the professor. Geordi knew he was straining forward in his seat, as if he could somehow _hear_ her better than anyone else in the room. The front of his desk dug into his uniform.

“Very well. Last question – I’m not expecting anyone to know this walking into the class, so don’t worry. But does anyone know the composition of a warp c-“

As if it no longer belonged to him, Geordi’s hand shot up in the air. The professor’s eyes darted to him, and Geordi felt himself go pale. _Shit. Why did I do that? I didn’t hear the rest of the question._ “Yes, cadet?” She nevertheless asked.

The entire class turned to look at him. Geordi was getting hot under the collar. Data’s eyes were not an exception to the rest of the class’, but Geordi couldn’t get a read on him. He was probably just programmed to look at whoever was speaking. _Well, this is what you wanted, isn’t it?_ Geordi grumbled at himself. _Beating the android to an answer. Revel it up, Geordi. Now, did she ask about the composition of a warp core or a warp coil?_

“Well, sir,” he started, trying to tune out the rest of the eyes in the room. “The warp core is made of a cylinder containing deuterium, antideuterium, and of course the dilithium crystal matrix. The warp coil is usually made of verterium cortenide, surrounding a tungsten-cobalt-magnesium alloy. It’s really the only combination that can handle the power output from the warp core and channel it to create the warp field.”

A pin could drop in that Starfleet Academy classroom. Geordi continued staring at the professor, but he could _feel_ the eyes on him still. He was right. He knew he was right. He had watched one be built before, remembered the chief engineer barking quiz questions at him when he’d been studying for his entrance exams. He remembered the colors and how they seemed to pulse together in perfect harmony.

The professor smiled at him. “Both are correct. What’s your name, cadet?”

“Geordi.” _Fuck._ “Cadet La Forge, sir.”

“You wouldn’t happen to be related to Captain La Forge?”

His mom’s rank was relatively new. Dad had been Lieutenant Commander for years and years; he was due for a promotion soon, but Mom had only recently been given her own starship. Geordi wasn’t certain whether to be disappointed or grateful that he’d left the starship life before that happened. On one hand, it would’ve been nice to get an insider look on how a Captain operated, and his mom was always willing to show him whatever he wanted to know.

On the other hand, it would’ve been so _embarrassing._ He remembered one occasion where Commander La Forge had politely requested over the shipboard computer that Mr. La Forge _please stop flirting with the engineers and go to class at his scheduled time, thank you._

Yeah, no, he changed his mind. He was grateful that he enrolled before Captain La Forge took her position.

“Yes, sir. She’s my mother. Lieutenant Commander La Forge is my father.” He wasn’t surprised the professor knew her. His mother was frequently stationed near the Neutral Zone to begin with and had been involved in more than one skirmish that made the news back home. Geordi rarely stayed with her when she was on those assignments, both parents opting to place Geordi with his father, with his relatively more tame background in xenozoology. That suited him just fine.

He loved both his parents, but he’d been aboard a ship during a Romulan attack. It wasn’t something he wanted to repeat.

The professor hummed. “That makes sense. You may have an advantage, cadet, use it wisely. Now, I think that’s enough for the pre-assessment, don’t you all think?” Around him, the class murmured in agreement. Geordi was relieved to hear it. Maybe he liked showing off a _little_ , but that had been a close call. He almost made an idiot of himself in front of the entire class, which was only fractionally better than painful death.

As the class started in earnest, Geordi took out his PADD and started to take notes. It was preliminary in nature, all of it was – basic schematic of a warp coil, general equations for warp factors, nothing that Geordi thought too much on. His attention faltered. When it did, he found himself looking over at the android. Data was not taking notes, but he was watching. Breathing, actually, and blinking.

Geordi wasn’t paying attention to class any longer, his stylus at a total standstill. Instead, he examined Data through every frequency he had. _Unreal,_ he told himself. _Maybe this is some sort of experiment in the bioengineering department? Some sort of makeshift Turing test?_ He wondered what Data’s mind was like. Although he could see it was positronic in nature, he wanted to take a look at the coding. That had to be the central hub for all of his processes. His breathing alone was hyper-realistic, much less anything else – _was that a synthetic intestinal system – holy cow_!

Suddenly, Data’s eyes flicked over to him.

 _Shit._ Geordi looked away, back at the board, writing, writing, _oh, yes, matter and antimatter interactions, hm, yes, interesting._

With the VISOR on, it was hard for Geordi to be accused of staring. He never had to worry about making direct eye contact. In extreme scenarios, even sleeping in class was a breeze. But still, he wondered if Data caught him, and then wondered why he was worried. Certainly Data couldn’t be _offended._

Geordi forced himself to pay attention for the rest of the class, taking notes in a quick, unintelligible shorthand. The professor soon dismissed them with a mild admonishment to start their first reading assignment. As Geordi packed up his things, he saw Data rise and approach the professor.

There was something _just-not-quite-right_ about his walking cycle, but Geordi didn’t know enough of human physiology and anatomy to say what it was. He found himself watching nonetheless, trying to pick apart the flaw. Was it too fast? Was it too smooth? Was it too confident? _Okay,_ Geordi told himself as Data spoke to the professor, _now you’re just being weird. Get up and leave._

And he did. He went to his next class for the day. Although he did a quick sweep around the room for the android of the hour, he didn’t see him. The next class passed, and he still didn’t see him. _Maybe we only have that one class together? If he is part of someone’s experiment, maybe he’s only attending that one class?_ He’d never _heard_ of the upper level cadets having to make an android for an assignment, but maybe one of the researcher’s? Geordi could see them trying to make an android for an ensign-rank Engineering position, unaware that in the _real_ starship world, having to come up with creative problem-solving was a must.

Geordi’s first day at the Academy continued. Three classes passed and Geordi found himself thinking of Cadet Data less and less and found himself thinking of his growing hunger more and more. _And_ his evening plans. He was going to call his parents. It was impossible to tell what time it was aboard their respective ship and colony, but he’d leave a message if he had to. They’d want to know how his first day went, and he … kind of missed them, anyway.

Finally, he had a break in his schedule. It was time for lunch.

A new world of potential terror threatened him.


	2. Lunchtime

He requested something from the replicator and surveyed the grounds of Starfleet Academy. Plenty of groups of students ate together, little clusters here and there on the grass. There were benches next to the buildings, some filled with … other clusters of students. _It’s the first day,_ Geordi complained to himself bitterly. _How are you all making friends on the first day? Did I miss my friend assignment?_

The prospect of finding a nice, shady tree to eat his spinach wrap under was tantalizing, but Geordi shook himself out of it. _You’re friendly,_ he told himself firmly. _You’re friendly, and you’re a nice guy, and you are going to make friends while you’re here._ He had friends on various ships and colonies spread across the galaxy, most of which had written to him to wish him good luck on his first day at the Academy. The digital postcards and letters were brought up on the digital board in his room.

He was going to _make friends._ Screwing up his courage (and his breath), Geordi went to the nearest table he saw with a free seat.

“Hey, guys,” he greeted cheerfully. Two humans, an Orion, and a Bajoran looked up at him. “Mind if I take a seat here? I’m Geordi.”

“Hey, you’re in my Federation history class,” the Orion chirped up at him. “I’m Talia. Nice to meet you, Geordi. These are my friends, Jorge – “ One of the humans waved a hello. “Matt – “ The other. “And Lyra.” Finally, the Bajoran raised her hand with a quiet “Hanyu!” of greeting.

Geordi settled on the bench and looked around at them. “Wow. Did you all meet today, or?”

They all chuckled at one another, before Matt chirped up. “No. Uh, I’m a second year, but I went to high school with Talia right here in the city. Talia’s dating Lyra, and I’m on the Parrises Squares team with Jorge.”

“We keep him on the team out of pity.” Matt aimed a poke in the ribs at his friend, and Geordi grinned at them.

“Hey, you provide the pretty face for the team, there’s nothing wrong with that.” It was as if Geordi had suddenly been possessed by the spirit of someone who was so outrageously confident that he’d flirt with a stranger, but it seemed to work well. Matt laughed and blushed in turn, and Geordi felt a rush of warmth. _Not too bad._

This wasn’t too bad at all. “Where are you from, Geordi?” Lyra asked him curiously.

Geordi chuckled. “That’s kind of a tough question. Both of my parents are in Starfleet, so kind of … everywhere, I guess? Somalia, originally, my sister still lives there. “

“Wow. What department are your parents in?” Jorge asked, leaning forward and propping his head up on his hands.

“My mom’s in Command, dad does xenozoology. I’m, uh, Engineering, so. Little different.”

“So am I!” Lyra piped up, smiling. “Wait – you’re in my Basic Warp Design class! You’re the smart guy.”

Oh god, he already had a reputation, and he wasn’t 100% he wanted it to be ‘smart guy’. It was leaps and bounds better than ‘blind guy’, but still fell short of the ideal, which was ‘cool guy’. “I mean, I’m okay, sure, but I basically grew up in a warp engine room, so I have an advantage. I’ve spent a lot of time on starships.”

There was a mutual _woah_ that passed among them. And suddenly, Geordi found himself peppered with questions about all aspects of starship life. Where he’d been, what he’d seen, the time he spent six months on a Bajoran colony, whether he had a preference towards safe-but-boring assignments or risky-but-exciting assignments (to which he emphatically responded the latter).

“So are you hoping to be put on a big starship, too? I mean, after all this is over,” Jorge asked, waving his hand in the air. “I’m hoping so. I want to be put _right_ against the Neutral Zone. I’m Command track, and I’ve heard so many stories about what it’s like to be there.”

“Oh, no,” Lyra murmured. “I’d like to work in agricultural engineering. Anywhere they need me, really, but I know some of the Bajoran refugee colonies need some work.” Geordi could understand that. That’d been one of his father’s assignments, studying the zoological life on a Bajoran refugee colony. They needed people.

“That works for _me,”_ Talia replied with a smirk, nuzzling against Lyra’s cheek for a half-second, “Because _I_ want to work in colony diplomacy. Not all of it is big, flashy starships, Jorge.”

“Well, _I_ definitely want a big, flashy starship,” Matt piped up.

Geordi had to consider. “I want to be chief engineer,” he finally concluded. “Obviously I’d like to be somewhere big for that. Some of the warp engine designs they’re putting out _are unreal.”_

And just like that, he settled into easy conversation with the other three students. Talia laughed frequently and leaned against Lyra’s arm when she spoke, Lyra gently teased Geordi about his elementary Bajoran skills, Geordi made a tentative promise to Matt and Jorge to join them for a scrimmage in their game later, even if he wasn’t a Parrises Squares guy.

_You’re friendly. You’re being … friendly._

Twenty minutes passed of tentative conversation, before Matt leaned forward. “You can tell me to buzz off if I’m being rude.” His voice was a conspiratorial whisper. “But can I ask, um,” he muttered, gesturing to his own eyes. “What…?”

The question didn’t put him off. Frankly, Geordi was surprised it hadn’t come up earlier. “I’m blind,” he explained. “It’s my VISOR. It stands for ‘Visual Instrument and Sensory Organ Replacement’. I’ve had it since I was 5. It lets me …” His gaze drifted off behind Matt, watching the grassy hill behind them.

Data.

Data was climbing up the hill, a PADD tucked underneath his arm. Geordi watched as he reached the top and sat underneath the cool shade of the tree. He wondered if androids got overheated. Well, they _did,_ he knew that much, but he wondered if the shade felt pleasant. Could androids _feel_ pleasant? Had Data precisely picked that location because he considered it the most objectively … nice?

He rested the PADD against his knees and began to read. Data was as still as a statue. Clearly he had the auto scroll feature on, because Data was not flicking across the pages. _Or_ Data was just staring at a blank PADD. That was also possible. But _why -_

Suddenly, Jorge whistled across from him. “Hey. Earth to Geordi. You still with us?”

Geordi blinked. “Sorry?”

“We were saying that was cool, man. Is it waterproof?”

“In theory, yeah. I try not to get it too wet, though, it messes with it. Hey, so,” Geordi added conversationally, gesturing towards the android on the hill. “What’s up with him?”

All four of his new friends turned around to see who he was talking about.

“Oh, that’s the android Starfleet found a couple of years back.” Talia launched into explanation, and Matt nodded knowingly. “It was _all_ they could talk about in San Francisco when he applied. Whether or not to let him in. But they did.”

“Yeah, but like …” Geordi didn’t know how to explain. “Is he advanced?”

“Apparently the most advanced that the Federation has ever seen. They’re not all that certain where he came from. _Apparently,”_ Talia continued, “They found him deactivated on a colony that had been entirely wiped out.”

“My bet is that he wiped them all out, and then deactivated himself. You know, to hide the evidence.” _Can androids do that?_ Geordi wondered to himself. _Just deactivate themselves?_

“I don’t think he did it. I think he’s definitely haunted, though.”

“Don’t be a dumbass, Jorge. Androids can’t become haunted.”

“No. Houses can be haunted. _Dolls_ can be haunted. And androids are kind of like dolls, except they have more mechanical parts in them.”

Lyra made a noise of disagreement. “That’s not – _Jorge._ That’s not how that works.”

Together, the bench table dissolved into a strict conversation about the difference between dolls and androids. Geordi participated every once in a while, chirping in about what little he knew about androids from his education and dolls from his sister, but his eyes would drift to Data. He didn’t know that his origin was quite so … sinister.

But Starfleet definitely wouldn’t have admitted him if there’d been _any_ evidence that he was the one to wipe out the colony.

… Right?

“How human is he?” Geordi finally found himself asking, which was what he wanted to ask all along. “I mean, he’s in our warp design class, Lyra. He breathes and blinks and stuff, but how much can he … you know, just be a person?”

Lyra considered that. “I don’t know. We haven’t really – I mean, in a Starfleet capacity, they don’t really explore android science all that much. I don’t know who built him, or why. I don’t know what he can do. If he can feel things.”

“Androids _definitely_ can’t feel,” Matt broke in, and Talia nodded in agreement.

“You guys know what I mean. Not feel, but … _synthesize_ feeling. Pretend feeling.”

“Yeah, I get you,” Geordi responded, looking back towards the table. He checked his watch. It was about time for his next class. After pinging their PADDs with his communication number, Geordi bid his new friends a cheerful farewell and started off for the rest of his classes for the day. He felt a swell of pride in his chest. _Hey, look at you, making friends, rockstar,_ Geordi informed himself, humming as he exited.


	3. Talk with Pops

As the rest of the day passed, Geordi thought of the android less. There was just too much going on otherwise. He shared a few quick texts with his new friend group, exchanging good ideas for dinner at some point in the future, before he reached for his mother’s number.

No answer. Figured. A Captain never got any rest. Geordi nonetheless left a cheerful message about the contents of his day to her.

It was a long walk from the Academy back to his dorm, but Geordi didn’t mind. The sun just began to set on San Francisco; it was pleasantly windy and cool. Geordi found himself looking upward at the tall buildings as he walked. Having come fresh off a starship, it was nice to have this. The ground underneath his feet didn’t rumble along with the engine. There was no sensation of recycled air. The lights above him weren’t pumped out by the starship’s often overpowering overhead lights.

Maybe he’d turn around and walk the block again, just to experience it more. _You get this for the next four years,_ Geordi told himself, and he began to understand why people would only want a colony assignment.

It wasn’t for him, but he understood. There was something really calming about having firm ground under his feet. On a ship, there was always the chance (however microscopically small) that the warp core would explode and kill everyone aboard, wasn’t there?

He reached for his communicator and called his dad. The communicator buzzed for one second, two second, three – _that’s okay, seriously, it might be nice to get some time to himself –_ before he heard a breath on the other line.

“Geordi,” his father remarked on the other line. “Is it the end of your first day _already?”_

Geordi continued to walk down the street as he spoke. He liked walking and talking, it managed to clear his mind like nothing else. “Yeah, well. Apparently, that thing you told me about them locking up the cadets in the classrooms at night? Myth.”

“Alright, _maybe.”_ Dad laughed. “How was your first day, son? Feeling the awe and majesty of Starfleet yet?”

Maybe not _that_ far. He’d been spoiled, Geordi guessed – he sure felt a hell of a lot more of the _awe and majesty_ of Starfleet when he’d actually been aboard a starship. Already, Geordi knew he was going to be impatient for the next four years, minor mercies aside. _This is important, Geordi,_ he told himself, stern. _There are some things you have to learn, and then you can be on a starship._

“It was good. You know, basics. I didn’t learn anything in warp design that Engineer McCafferty didn’t teach me when I was ten, and I didn’t learn anything in Federation History that Mom didn’t tell us about over dinner.”

“I figured as much. You’ll feel the same way for a while. But what you learn here is _important,_ Geordi, and it’ll help you make connections. Did you look up those instructors I told you about yet?”

“It’s the first day!” Geordi complained good-naturedly. “I was more concerned with making sure I wasn’t lost.” He approached his dormitory, and stared up at it. It was fully night, now, but that never gave Geordi any trouble. He flicked on night vision and stared at the building with an eerie green glow. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“You should. The first name on the list is the reason why I went into xenozoology.” Internally, Geordi groaned – he didn’t want to hear _that_ story for the thousandth time. His father didn’t launch into it. Instead, there was a beat of silence, before he asked – “And everyone was okay?”

His father had never been the most eloquent or natural of speakers. That was all Mom. Now, though, Geordi understood him. His father always worried about him more socially – maybe because his father had _always_ suffered socially as a kid. “Yeah. I mean, you know, a couple of stares,” Geordi muttered. The VISOR was starting to ache, at the ports in his head, and his eyes … burned. He was going to wake up with an awful headache tomorrow. “One or two people asked. But nobody, you know … You know.”

“Good. Good. The technology’s starting to become a lot more common, in a while, people won’t even bat an eye. But you’ll tell me if someone does? Or your mother?”

Geordi laughed. “So, what? My Mom and Dad can come down to San Francisco and tell off a bully for me? I’m 18, Dad.”

“18?” Dad sighed, a little sadly. “When did _that_ happen? At least you’ve got a long way to go.”

Geordi never felt that more than right then. Four years, at least, and only then would he be allowed on a starship. And that was only as an ensign. Sometimes people lasted as an ensign for five, even ten years. Sometimes people never rose above it. And beyond that, it was only Lieutenant! He was tired already. How did his mother ever reach Captain?

“So,” his father continued, something a little devious in his voice. “Meet anyone?”

“ _Pops!”_ Geordi was flushed dark red. Why did his father always insist with this? His mother rarely bothered him about who he was seeing (though, she had voiced her displeasure at a certain boyfriend _very_ loudly one memorable occasion), but Dad _always_ brought it up. “It’s the first day!”

“Well, you know I met your mother on _my_ first day … “

He did know. He’d heard many times. How they’d sat next to each other in their first class on diplomacy (the same class where his father had realized that his talents suited the science track more), how they’d introduced themselves to one another, how they’d talked the rest of the night _and his father knew he would never be the same again._

He heard it pretty much every anniversary and every birthday.

It was sweet. Sort of. When it wasn’t faintly nauseating. Geordi had always gotten the sort of impression that his father, socially awkward to the extreme, had only made friends and had a social life through his mother. Which was _okay,_ maybe, but it wasn’t for him. He was friendly, social. In fact …

“I don’t think I met anyone serious, but I did make some friends.” Geordi let himself into his dorm, waving a casual hello to someone in the hall as he flopped down on his bed. “Talia, Lyra, Matt, and Jorge.”

“Lyra. That’s Bajoran, isn’t it? Did you speak Bajoran to her?”

“I tried, but honestly, Dad, I think I embarrassed myself more than anything. They’re okay. Cool,” Geordi corrected. _Cool, just like me._ “I did – oh! There was something I wanted to ask you.” He rolled over to his stomach, stuffing his pillow underneath his chest. If anyone would know about this, it would be Dad. “Apparently there’s an _android_ enrolled here? Like a functioning, fully – like an _android.”_

“Huh.” Geordi could hear the gears turning in his father’s brain. “You know. I _did_ hear Starfleet finding an unusually advanced android a couple of years back. From the service reports I read, they didn’t expect him to be fully operational, much less able to intermingle. What’s he like?”

_Oh, I don’t know, I haven’t talked to him, I’m just getting weirdly obsessed with the guy – but, seriously, who can blame me? He’s the most advanced piece of equipment I’ve ever seen. A walking supercomputer. More than a supercomputer._

Geordi tried to think of something significantly less creepy. “He’s okay. He’s really smart. But, you know, just a little … off.”

“Off?”

“Like, there’s something about him that you can tell isn’t human. Besides the obvious, structural stuff. I don’t know.”

There was a pause on the other side of the phone, and Geordi wondered if the communicator was having trouble, before his father broke in. It was laced with concern. “But you’re not being disrespectful to him? Nobody is?”

“Um, no. Not as far as I can tell.”

“Good. He might not have feelings, and he might still be learning how to adapt to among biological lifeforms, but he still counts as an independent being that everyone has to respect. With how advanced he is, the differences between you and him are only philosophical.”

This was the same man who thanked the replicator every time he requested something from it. Geordi wasn’t surprised that this was his viewpoint, though he wasn’t at all qualified to make an opinion on Data’s personhood. He was a remarkable feat of engineering. That was about where Geordi’s expertise ended.

“I do, Dad, don’t worry. I’m just saying – it’s cool. I didn’t know Starfleet had done that. Is it true, the colony where they found him –“

“Geordi,” His dad quietly broke in, stopping Geordi’s excited gossip in its tracks. “The findings of the _USS Tripoli_ are classified. Your mother is probably the only person who knows the details, and she definitely won’t tell you. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

That definitely didn’t bode well for the ‘ _killed all the colonists and deactivated himself’_ theory, but Geordi didn’t press on it. “Alright, alright,” he sighed out. He folded one arm underneath his head as he laid down on the pillow. As he did so, his VISOR throbbed uncomfortably with the shift in pressure and Geordi hissed, sitting straight up.

“What? What, what’s going on?”

“Nothing! Sorry. Just, the VISOR’s been on all day, starting to hurt.”

“I’ll let you go. Love you.”

“Are you sure – “

But his Dad had already shut off communications. Geordi grinned and shook his head, placing the communicator to the side. He loved his dad, a lot. His dad was probably the reason why he went into Engineering (if only because xenozoology was a little _messy)._ But his dad had never been good at some of the more common social niceties, like saying _goodbye_ on a communicator. His mom, on the other hand, could spend twenty minutes trying to end a conversation. He was just surprised he hadn’t gotten a brief lesson about whatever specimens Dad was trying to analyze.

With the communicator off, Geordi was confronted with the fact of being alone in a dark dormitory.

 _It’s late. I could sleep,_ Geordi told himself. He went into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. His reflection stared back. Slowly, carefully, he detached the VISOR from his head and the world fell into comforting darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of the first update! Always want to get a substantial piece out before I go back to weekly updates. Thanks all for reading!


	4. First Party

According to anyone (well, anyone _cool)_ that Geordi had spoken to on a starship, Starfleet parties were prolific – and occasionally infamous. Without fail, there was at least one case where a few cadets were thrown out of the Academy for conduct unbecoming. While Geordi didn’t want to go _that_ far, he also hadn’t hesitated when Matt had invited him to the party (especially because the invitation had let to a few stray thoughts of _‘does this mean something or is he just inviting me to be nice’)._ Even better, it was held off-Starfleet grounds in Old City San Francisco. Geordi looked up at the large building with an oncoming sense of exhaustion. It had taken some time to get there – although it was a few months into the semester, Geordi hadn’t really found his way around the city yet. He’d been spending most of his time focusing on his classes. Like he had expected, the Engineering-track ones had been a breeze, but he’d had surprising difficulty with the others. It would be nice to relax, even for a night.

The party home base was an old-brick-and-mortar building, feeling distinctly pre-First Contact. These sorts were dotted around Old City, occasionally being archived as historical landmarks but mostly being lived in until they were rubble. It wasn’t uncommon for a group of cadets to set up house here, mostly to get out of the stricter Starfleet Academy code of conduct regulations.

His first Starfleet Academy party. _Wow._ He was social, and even on starships, liked parties as much as the next guy. But they were different there – usually for birthdays or anniversaries, and doubtless had a few middle-aged members of the senior staff present. Not exactly a rager. Alcohol was also banned on starships; synthehol just didn’t have the same appeal. Sure, he’d drank a little bit of the real stuff when he was planetside, but nearly always with some sort of supervision.

Geordi stepped up into the building and immediately experienced an assault on all his senses. Thankfully, his VISOR adjusted easily to the interior of the building as he stepped in, dimming even the flashing neon lights into something palatable. Somebody thrust a beer into his hands – he wasn’t _really_ a beer guy, but he’d drink it regardless, because _ooh, beer._

The music thumped from the sound system that was (according to a quick flick of his VISOR) seemingly wired through every square inch of the house. Made sense. He was pretty sure that the actual owners of the place were Engineering track. Above it all, Geordi could hear the sound of human voices: either shouting at the top of their lungs to be heard, or bringing one another close to whisper covertly.

People were dancing, too, mostly on the linoleum kitchen or the hardwood of the living room. It was all a jostle of bodies in close proximity swaying up and down, as well as … _okay,_ a few people clearly making out on the furniture. The party had _just_ started. _It’s the first semester,_ Geordi thought to himself in despair. _How are people already hooking up? Didn’t we all just meet each other?_

Planetside life could be strange sometimes. He went to go look for his friends, a lone bit of sanity in the chaos of a Starfleet Academy houseparty.

Though – the chaos wasn’t a _bad_ thing. Already Geordi felt his heart pumping in excitement. _Maybe_ he’d even dance if he had a few more drinks in him. _Maybe_ if Matt asked him, specifically. _Maybe._

“Geordi!” He heard Jorge’s voice call from across the room by the banister of the house, and then he saw him raising a beer in his direction. “Come on! Talia’s about to show us traditional Orion dancing using the railing on the stairs! Let’s _go,_ man, you’re always going on about being _cultured._ ”

Suddenly, Geordi was very, very glad he wasn’t at the party alone. The sight of his friends warmed him immeasurably, and he pushed his way through the crowd with one hand over his beer. “Traditional Orion dancing? Pretty sure we call that pole dancing on Earth,” he joked, leaning against a bare stretch of the wall. And suddenly, the party seemed a little easier. At any rate, he wasn’t being a wallflower. He watched Talia twist herself around using the various widely-spaced columns of the stair railing. After some fairly persistent cajoling on Geordi’s and Lyra’s part, Matt joined her for a series of elementary moves. Geordi laughed and called encouragement with a beer in his hand, occasionally taking a sip, and the party went on.

A few hours later, Geordi had had … probably more than a few beers and whatever mixed drink Talia put into his hands. He couldn’t tell how many, but he _was_ debating on asking Matt himself to dance. After all, why not? Why did he have to _wait_ until someone made the first move? _He_ could make the first move.

Even more encouragingly, the party had started to thin out. Geordi watched a few couples go to spare bedrooms upstairs; others were passed out in various points along the furniture. Talia and Lyra had disappeared about twenty minutes ago to places unknown, though with the way they were touching one another, Geordi didn’t think it best to ask if he could join.

Now, there was an issue if he asked Matt to dance – then he’d leave Jorge alone in the kitchen, and while Jorge seemed much more comfortable in this sort of scene, he didn’t want to do that to the guy. So, clamping down on that excuse, Geordi stayed in the kitchen with Matt and Jorge. That was okay, too. Sometimes it was nice just to have some guy time.

He was leaning on the counter with Matt and Jorge, occasionally picking at the food that’d been left on the counter. There were still plenty of people in the house itself, clustering in the hallways. Fifty, Geordi estimated at a glance, counting the people upstairs. He could get a better idea of he flicked through the filters on his VISOR, but the VISOR had been reduced to a pleasant aristic smudge.

Geordi was pleasantly drunk. He shifted from leaning against the counter to leaning against Matt’s shoulder, his vision starting to swim. Was it generally recommended to get drunk in the VISOR? No. The effects of alcohol on the interaction between brainwaves and the VISOR hadn’t been explicitly researched. Geordi just knew that it took skill to interpret the complicated images that the VISOR gave him, and that skill had been the first out the door when he’d started to drink.

But for now, that was okay.

Away from the kitchen, Geordi heard the front door open. A blurry figure lingered in the doorway before coming in. Weird, he figured everyone who was going to get there had gotten there by now. The party had transformed from ‘bright fun’ to ‘comfortable embers’. Then there was a small commotion as a few _other_ blurry figures approached the big blurry figure, and Geordi could’ve sworn that he heard someone exclaim “Data!”

“Data?” Geordi asked, leaning off of Matt’s shoulder. An impulse fired in his brain. “Data’s here?”

Jorge chuckled appreciatively at him. “Man, you are so drunk.”

Geordi cast an accusatory look at his friend. “So’re you,” he muttered in an _what-bounces-off-me-sticks-to-you_ tone. In front of them, he saw a group of cadets – not in his year, he didn’t think, maybe second or even third – with clutched between their hands. From Geordi’s VISOR, all he could see was a gray-ish smudge being held by slightly larger muted smudges of people. They were using a ladder to reach the top of the kitchen door, which opened into the front hallway.

“What are they doing?” Matt asked in a mutter, and Geordi hummed in agreement. _It probably makes perfect sense,_ he thought to himself, _And you’re just drunk._ _Maybe they’re just doing home repairs. Maybe the door needs to be oiled. There’s so many people here. Great for DIY._

By that time, Jorge had turned around to look at the backgruond through the kitchen window. “Matt,” he gasped, “They’re setting up a game of P-Squares in the backyard. Come on, let’s go play a couple of rounds.”

“Hell _yes.”_ Matt quietly took his arm from around Geordi’s shoulders. “Coming, Geordi?”

 _I was gonna hope later tonight, but maybe later,_ Geordi thought to himself dimly, but thankfully, he retained the last singular braincell to know that saying that out loud wasn’t the best idea. “No, no. You guys go on. I’ll be okay here,” he waved them away. On his best days, he wasn’t the most sports-inclined sort of day. And he _definitely_ wasn’t going to risk the VISOR when he was that drunk. No, he was fine with leaning against the counter and watching the party go by around him.

They both departed, leaving Geordi alone. He chewed on a mostly cold piece of pizza mindlessly, flicking through the different filters on his VISOR. Usually he’d be able to make much more scientific observations, but now it was nothing more than _lights look pretty._ The third-year cadets had managed to put the Gray Smudge in front of the Smudge-Shaped Door, and they’d shut it most of the way. _Weird,_ Geordi thought, _that could hit someone_ _if it opens_ _._

A wave of nausea hit Geordi, and he tossed the rest of his pizza slice in the garbage with a wince. Actually, perhaps it was best that he leave. He wasn’t uncomfortably drunk yet, but he knew if he waited here alone too much longer that he _would_ be getting quite uncomfortably drunk indeed. Matt and Jorge would be caught up in their game for the erst of the night, and Lyra and Talia were probably back at home already. That was okay. He was happy enough to call his first Starfleet party a resounding success, even if he _hadn’t_ asked or been asked to dance.

Just as he pushed himself off the counter and reached for his communicator to hail a taxi, the party dissolved into messy, blurry, _noisy_ commotion.

At the time, Geordi was too distracted to see what was going on – at least, nothing more than a series of smudges all moving together at once. He could only put together the flashes he saw later. Data had pushed open the door to enter the kitchen. In doing so, the bucket of hydraulic fluid was knocked from the top of the door. It found its mark – at least, within a few inches. The sharp metal bottom of the bucket hit Data first with a loud _bong! t_ hat set some of the cadets giggling, before spilling its constant all over the side of Data’s head and uniform (who wore a _uniform_ to a party?). Drawn by gravity, the liquid that didn’t seep into his uniform or hair started to collect on the floor.

 _That didn’t seem very nice,_ Geordi thought to himself in a monotone.

Everyone in the kitchen broke into uproarious laughter; Geordi could hear echoes from laughter in the front hallway too. Data looked around in confusion, head swiveling from side to side to try and ascertain the source of the situation. His father’s words ringing in his ear, Geordi had already started to approach him. It was nothing more than a bare impulse that he might’ve been able to hide if he was a little more sober. He focused on Data and successfully made his vision a little clearer. Data looked gruesome with the dark red fluid dripping down the side of his head. Data looked down at him and asked with the utmost sincerity: “Was there a joke?”

Geordi wasn’t 100% certain what was going on, and he’d only fully process what had happened later. But, even now, he could tell that this seemed … cruel. Why were they _laughing_ at Data so much? Data was a mess. He was making more of a mess on the floor. That, Geordi could fix.

“Hey,” he muttered, tugging on Data’s uniform sleeve. It was soaked through, and god, he didn’t know where they’d gotten the hydraulic fluid from, but it _smelled_ awfully _._ Geordi wrinkled his nose.“Hey. Come with me. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Data looked down at him, still uncertain, but he took a step forward when Geordi walked away. The partyguests didn’t follow or even take notice of them, caught up with their own practical joke moreso than the damage they had caused. Geordi supposed they wouldn’t – clearly they’d found it _hilarious_ when the bucket banged against Data’s head like the Tinman. With one hand still on Data’s sleeve, Geordi made a beeline for the stairs, hoping to find a (relatively) more isolated second floor.

He dropped Data’s sleeve while they climbed the stairs, placing one hand on the railing to keep himself steady. It was easier to concentrate without as much visual stimuli admitted to the system, but Data was still following just a little too close behind him. Geordi knew he was being slow. The stairs were a lot more _wobbly_ than he was used to. Drunk people with typical sight had to deal with wooziness, Geordi thought bitterly, but they didn’t have to deal with what amounted to a _scrambled video feed_ swimming before his eyes. Data made no complaint.

When they reached the second floor, Geordi began to try doors. _Locked. Locked. Unlocked!_ Geordi tried it, and saw a mass of thrusting limbs underneath blankets. _I’ll just shut that door for them._ Maybe a bedroom wasn’t the best place, anyway, if he was going to be cleaning Data up.

The bathroom was uninhabited. Geordi opened the door to let Data inside, and then he stepped in after him. Already, Geordi felt a _lot_ better. It was akin to sobering up, even partially. With the clear white lights humming overhead, the noise and furor of the party had settled into a dull roar beneath their feet. He blinked his eyes shut tight and opened them, trying to ease the burn. Jesus. He needed to take the VISOR off soon, his eyes felt like he’d been staring at a screen for days.

“Cadet La Forge,” Data asked him, turning around from the doorway to face him. “Why did you take me into this bathroom?”

Geordi looked him up and down. The fluid had soaked deep into his uniform, now, a slightly brownish liquid staining half of his side. Up on his head, though, Geordi couldn’t help but noticed that the stain looked more … yellowish. Weird. Maybe it was having a weird reaction with some of his coatings. Even with some of his visual ability restored, Geordi wasn’t about to spend ten minutes trying to determine what that coating was. All that mattered was that Data looked like a mess and Geordi felt bad. “To clean you up.” He gestured towards the lip of the bathtub. “Sit down, okay?”

Data did as Geordi requested. He let his hands rest on the porcelain of the bathtub, staring up at him with an unsurprising blankness. Jesus, if the guy was human, Geordi would’ve said that he looked like a murder victim. It just _had_ to be reddish-brownish hydraulic fluid, didn’t it?

Even if being separated from the excitement had sobered him up considerably, Geordi knew that he physically wasn’t running on all cylinders still. He wobbily got himself on his knees in front of Data to survey him, making a shaky mental checklist of what they needed. The outfit synthesizer could get him another uniform, for sure. There were towels in the bathroom. Okay. “If you take off your shirt, I can clean you off. I’m sure that stuff doesn’t smell good, huh?”

Data didn’t respond to him. Certainly didn’t take off his shirt. Instead, he was still staring down at Geordi, on his knees in front of him. Geordi felt a prickle of awkwardness race across his skin. _Oh … kay?_ The guy wasn’t cooperating.

Either way, he could clean some of his exposed skin. Geordi was pretty sure some of the hydraulic fluid was starting to seep into Data’s ear; he didn’t know if Data _had_ an ear canal, but that couldn’t be good. He reached for a hand towel and wet it. Taking Data’s hand, he started to diligently wipe and soak up the liquid that had started to stain there. As he kept moving, the rag started to become stained a filthy brown color.

Huh. Data’s hand was more realistic than he thought it’d be. It had some give to it, like a human’s, and wasn’t as cold to the touch as Geordi thought it would be. Lukewarm, mostly. There was still something distinctly _wrong_ when Geordi pushed down a little, something that didn’t scream bones, but if Geordi wasn’t paying attention to it, he wouldn’t have noticed.

When Geordi finished with his hand, he reached up for the next part of exposed skin – the shoulder and neck. Some of it was still dripping off the edge of his chin and onto his lap below. They worked in awkward silence, but Geordi didn’t mind it so much. He had to focus on not wobbling on his knees. Pitching forward against Data’s chest would be embarrassing, for sure.

“Cadet La Forge,” he heard Data suddenly ask, “What just happened?”

“Um. Geordi. You can call me Geordi.”

“Yes, Cadet La Forge.”

“Call me _Geordi.”_ Geordi insisted.

“Yes, Geordi.”

The implication was not lost on him. “Do you only do what people tell you to do? That seems awfully primitive for an android. You know?”

“I have found that doing what people ask of me results in a significantly higher probability for positive social interaction. I do, however, have the capability to disobey and act of my own free will.”

Well, if that wasn’t just the saddest thing that Geordi had ever heard. He paused in his motions for a second, considering Data’s words, before he gave a firm shake of his head. “Well – do that, then. Do what you want. This feels weird if you just do whatever I tell you to do. I promise, it’s actually going to be _pretty weird_ if you just do what I tell you to do all the time.” _Does it still count as free will, if I just ordered you to use free will?_

Data nodded, and Geordi resumed trying his best. “What happened, Geordi?”

“Um. Okay.” He squeezed out the damp rag into the tub, letting the brown liquid gather on the bottom. Maybe the owners of the house would be a little pissed off, but frankly, Geordi didn’t give a damn right now. They could kiss his ass, letting something like this to happen. To hell with their bathtub. Geordi ran clean water over it and started again. Jesus, just thinking about it more _really_ started to piss him off. Who the hell did they think they were? “A couple of assholes decided to play a practical joke on you. That’s what happened.”

“A practical joke?” Data considered. “Ah. A trick. A prank. A _jape.”_

“Yeah, a jape.”

“I apologize. I am advanced in many ways, but I do not yet understand the human concept of humor. Could you please explain to me what the joke was? Perhaps the punchline?”

Geordi snorted derisively. “There wasn’t one. At least, not one that was funny.”

“I do not understand. They laughed.”

“Those guys _thought_ it’d be funny to drop a bucket of hydraulic fluid on your head, because you’d be surprised? Embarrassed? Whatever. Or maybe they just thought it would be funny to humiliate the android.” Geordi snorted again, passing the rag over the shell of Data’s ear. It folded as if it were actually made of cartilage. Geordi’s hand stilled in surprise, and then he continued. “Like I said – not funny.”

“Humans have different perceptions of humor from one another.”

“Boy, you can say that again.”

“Humans have different perceptions of humor from one another. But I have reviewed my memory circuits, and 47 cadets laughed when it occurred. That is the vast majority of cadets in the room.”

“Then there were 47 assholes in the room.”

Data seemed to review this in silence. Then, in a slightly quieter voice, he corrected, “To be anatomically accurate, there were 57.”

Maybe that wouldn’t make a sober Geordi laugh. Actually, it probably would – but not as hard. Whether it was Data’s quietly serious tone of voice, the tension from the entire situation, or maybe just picturing 57 walking, talking assholes, Geordi laughed.

What started as a juvenile giggle evolved into a full-fledged belly laugh. He sat his head on Data’s shoulder to pull himself together, but the laughing didn’t stop for a full minute. His shoulders shook with the effort of trying to get himself to stop _laughing,_ god _damn_ it, this was _serious,_ he was _too drunk_ to have a serious conversation, apparently.

“That was humorous,” Data murmured, maybe to Geordi, maybe to nobody in particular.

Finally, Geordi pulled himself away from Data’s shoulder and shook his head. “Yeah, I – “ _Much_ blurrier than normal. Oops. Geordi temporarily removed his VISOR, pushing it upward as he brushed the tears out of his eyes. “Yeah. Funny. What you said was funny.”

He reattached it and cleared his throat. Data’s neck was as clean as it was going to get without more water and some soap. Geordi started in on his face, trying to aim for being gentle over being thorough. “I’m sorry they did that to you.”

“Ah. You were involved in the joke.”

“No! No, I wasn’t. Jesus, I don’t even know where you get hydraulic fluid this time of night at Old City. A replicator wouldn’t give you that much all at once. I’m just apologizing on their behalf.” Geordi could almost predict what Data was going to say next. “Yeah, I don’t think they’re very sorry, either. Then maybe I’m not apologizing on their behalf. Maybe I’m just apologizing. Because I’m sorry it happened to you.”

Data tilted his head to the side somewhat as Geordi wiped the fluid off his face. Geordi’s hands were starting to reek of the stuff, but he didn’t pay it a lot of attention. Wouldn’t be the first time that his hand had been streaked with hydraulic fluid. It already felt like he was never going to get the stuff out of his nostrils to begin with, anyway. A nice warm _water_ shower was in his future, full to bursting with bubbles. “If you are concerned that my feelings are injured, do not be,” Data explained. As Geordi worked, he noticed that Data’s eyes were following him in a rather disconcerting way. “I have none.”

No feelings. Right. Geordi shook his head. “I don’t care about that. It still wasn’t very nice.”

A beat passed (processing time, Geordi supposed), before Data answered. “Yes. Using most definitions of the term, it was not ‘nice’.”

Geordi had reached his hair. For a second, he marveled at it – _how lifelike!_ _It’s really shiny! But human shiny!_ _–_ before his fingers brushed an imperfection on Data’s scalp. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Data, do you have a seam in your hairline?” He asked, and Data shook his head. Geordi already suspected the answer – it was too _ragged_ to be a mechanical seam.

“No. My cranial unit opens from the rear.”

“Then what …?” Geordi continued to probe at it. Structural flaw, maybe? Then he remembered the loud _gong!_ that the bucket made when it crashed down on his head. How the bucket had a thick base. The damn bucket had split his skin. His skin was split in a curve, reaching from a few inches above his ear almost to his hairline. Geordi could run his fingers inside of the tear, but when his fingers touched what felt like _very_ delicate circuitry, he pulled back and hoped he hadn’t just broken the most advanced android that the Federation had ever seen. “Oh, hell. You’ve got a cut.”

Data nodded. “The sharp base of the bucket appears to have split my outer dermal layer. I did not think it relevant to tell you.”

A new, indignant shock of anger filled Geordi’s veins. Not only had they humiliated him, ruined his uniform, made him smell like hydraulic fluid, they’d _hurt_ him. They’d _damaged_ him. That was where the yellowish fluid had come from. It was the fluid from inside Data’s own body: pumped through him, no different than an organic organism’s blood, to make sure that nothing got stuck. And they’d _hurt_ him.

Data returned his look coolly, hands primly folded in his lap.

“Do you feel pain?” Geordi asked, wiping his hands over his own shirt. He hadn’t changed into his uniform for the party, but he wondered if Data had anything that wasn’t a Starfleet uniform in his wardrobe. Somehow, he didn’t imagine the android being a strong advocate for fashion. Probably for the best. An outfit fabricator would definitely have a Starfleet uniform programmed.

He hesitated, fingers curling around the rim of the bathtub. “No, I do not feel pain. It is many of the human experiences that I lack.” he finally admitted.

That was better, but the expected anger didn’t rush through his veins again. Instead, Geordi was sad. The drunk sort of sad where he was one bad look away from crying. _Jesus,_ his emotions swung wildly when he drank something – but suddenly, this situation felt a lot more personal. Suddenly, Data felt like his personal responsibility in this bathroom with buzzing incandescent lights. “Okay. Okay, um – “

“You have helped sufficiently. I am able to return home and repair myself.” Data paused, and Geordi could have sworn that he saw the man sniff. “And change.”

“Hang on, no. I can go synthesize an outfit for you. And, you know, this house is full of Engineering students. I’m sure their replicator can make the tool necessary to patch you up.” Geordi considered which would be the best tool, investigating Data’s injury with a hum. The answer popped into his head: a nanosolder would be perfect, capable of re-connecting the outer surface of Data’s skin at the molecular level. “Wait here for me?”

He saw Data hesitate.

“Do you _want_ to wait here for me?” Geordi corrected.

“I will wait here for you. Thank you for your assistance.”

Satisfied, Geordi stood from his spot and exited the bathroom. It took him only a minute to find a bedroom with a spare replicator and _no_ banging cadets, but he stared at it, puzzled, as he tried to guess Data’s dimensions for a uniform. Eventually, he decided on sheer guess. Android dimensions were not his specialty. _This is going to be too big,_ Geordi told himself as he tucked it under his shoulder. Replicating a nanosolder was much more familiar to him, and he soon returned to the bathroom with both tucked under his arm.

Data’s shirt was off. It stunned Geordi for a moment, but more practically, it let him see what a bad job he did with wiping the fluid off him. Data’s body still looked like a crime scene. Also, Data looked exceptionally built. Then again, if someone designed him, why wouldn’t he be? Especially if, as Matt and Jorge’s story suggested, he was somebody’s pet project. “Uh! Uh, okay. It’s probably for the best if I repair your head before you put this on, because there might be some leakage,” Geordi remarked, taking a step inside the bathtub behind Data. He raised the nanosolder in his grasp. Alright, now to find the seam again – now to keep his hand _steady_ –

“I can do it,” Data blurted out suddenly, one hand snapping up to close around Geordi’s wrist. While Data wasn’t squeezing, Geordi tried instinctively to free his hand and found that he could not.

“What? Data, I’ve used a nanosolder _probably_ three thousand times, and you can barely see the seam. I got it.”

“I find that number improbable. Also, you are intoxicated.” It was obvious that Geordi didn’t understand still from the way he scoffed, and Data clarified: “And it is _my_ head.”

Geordi opened his mouth to argue again, but he raised his eyes to catch a glance at himself in the mirror. Yeah, okay. He was drunk. His hands weren’t as steady as they should have been for such a delicate operation. “Let me get you – hang on,” he muttered, passing the tool to Data. He fumbled in his pocket for his PADD, and after a few quick taps, showed a clear, reflective surface on it – a mirror functionality. “So you can see. I’ll hold it up – sorry if it wobbles.”

“Thank you, Geordi.” Data took the nanosolder, brushing his hair to the side as best as he could. Geordi assisted with his free hand. There was a heady smell of melting metal as Data set to it, slowly repairing the seam. Geordi had to marvel at how still his hands were. It was as mechanical and as efficient as if … well, as if a robot were doing it. “You have operated a nanosolder before.”

Oh! Conversation. “Yeah. I was on a Starfleet ship before I enrolled here. Not on an assignment, obviously, just um.” Geordi sniffed, slightly adjusting the angle of the mirror. “My parents, you know.”

“Ah. You were a child that was placed with your parents on assignment.”

“Yeah. One or the other, usually. Sometimes both, but that practically never happened.”

“It must have been …” Data considered it. His eyes met Geordi’s in the mirror. “Lonely. Correct?”

“Sort of. I mean, you know that Starfleet ships have varying amounts of crew. Sometimes there were dozens of kids around my age. Sometimes, there …well, there wasn’t any. I was the only kid aboard. Which is fine, has its own advantages.”

“Such as?”

“I know a lot more about warp engines than most students here. Sometimes, they’d sort of treat me as an honorary ensign, giving me things to do.” Geordi explained, a small smile splitting his face. Those had been the best assignments – when he _really_ felt like he was part of the crew keeping the starship running. “It was good. I liked it. So, I’m here.”

Data nodded in understanding. “I was also aboard a Starfleet vessel for some time, though I was not permitted to have duties. I mostly remained in the Engineering department. I was not permitted in many departments.”

“Where were you permitted?”

Data considered the question before answering. “The Engineering department.”

“So, what, they just kept you locked up there? Seems kind of harsh.”

“There was no internal lock on the door that I could not access. They ordered me to stay, and I did. However, I had only recently been re-activated, and they were unaware of the depth of my sentience. I had work to conduct on my own internal neural circuitry, in order to process the world around me and the interactions I had with others. I had been deactivated for some time,” Data explained, “And they were uncertain if I represented a danger to the crew. My reactions and demeanor were occasionally hostile in nature, due to a lack of understanding of my own positronic brain.”

“Hard to imagine _you_ being hostile to anyone,” Geordi murmured, mostly to himself in amazement. He knew the guy had some serious muscle (figuratively speaking) in him; Geordi had seen it with the VISOR in class (not that he ogled. Well, not that he ogled in anything other than a strictly fascinated sort of way). But _still._

Data’s head twitched to the side curiously. In doing so, he perfectly altered the angle with which he was suturing his skull. “Why?”

“I don’t know. Because you seem nice.” Maybe _nice_ wasn’t the word, but Geordi couldn’t force his brain to cooperate long enough to think of anything more poetic.

“ _Nice.”_ Data considered the word. “But you do not know me very well.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t have an opinion about you. You know what they say about first impressions.” It became clear that Data did not, in fact, know what they said about first impressions. “They’re the impressions that matter most.”

“I see. And what was your first impression of me, Geordi?”

He remembered a few weeks ago, in Basic Warp Design, the way Data raised his hand like he had somewhere to be. The way he reported answers as if he were spitting them out of a database. Nonetheless, Geordi’s demeanor was teasing. “Know-it-all?”

Data considered this, before nodding in agreement. “I do know very much.”

It made Geordi laugh again, jostling the PADD/mirror enough to render it useless for Data. But Data was already finished, gently placing the nanosolder down on the tub beside him. He probed at his newly sutured skull. Geordi joined him, his fingers brushing along Data’s as he felt along the old wound. He felt only smooth skin, as if there’d never been an injury at all. Data _was_ really good at that. Wow. Then again, why wouldn’t he be?

Geordi was certain he had some skill, but he didn’t have _soldering-on-a-nanometer-level-in-a-partyhouse-bathroom_ levels of skill.

Though, he hadn’t _tried._ Maybe he’d surprise everyone, but he was also glad that Data hadn’t let him fuck up his head even further.

“Perfect.” Geordi stepped over the rim of the bathtub. He looked over Data from the front again. Wow, realistic. _Handsome,_ his drunk mind supplied from nowhere, a little bubble of thought that burst right in his cerebral cortex. He shook his head, preferring to focus instead on the technical skill that whoever built Data had displayed. Whoever had made Data had included _chest hair._ Cool. “Did you want to shower? Can you, uh, do water? I’m sure you can do water.”

Data nodded, standing. He immediately began fiddling with his pants, and, hissing through his teeth, Geordi wheeled around in his heel to face the corner of the wall. The quick motion almost made him topple over, and Geordi supported himself on the bathroom counter. “Whoa! Warn a guy before you get your dick out, Data.”

_Does he have one? I mean, it’s kind of rude to assume that he has one, right? Should I ask? Should I peek to make sure? No. No way, that’s much worse._

“I am sorry?” Geordi heard from behind him, a question of confusion rather than true apology.

“I’m trying to give you some privacy. Do you want me to step outside?” He heard the drop of pants on the floor, and then Data gingerly toeing off his boots. Geordi made a mental note – clear, direct questions.

“Oh.” The water turned on. Geordi had missed those. Starships usually utilized sonic showers (for a thousand reasons of practicality and speed), but returning home and having the option to take a _bubble bath_ was amazing. And in an old house like this, Geordi wasn’t surprised that they hadn’t upgraded to a sonic shower. “No. That is fine. My modesty programming does not prohibit you from remaining in the same room, though your gesture of privacy is appreciated.”

Modesty programming. Geordi stared at the wall directly. _This is crazy. He has modesty programming._ He wanted to sit down with him and ask for every little subroutine and matrix that pulsed through his body, but he figured that would definitely be an invasion of privacy, moreso than seeing android genitalia.

The shower did not last long. Geordi figured Data didn’t experience the pleasure of standing in the warm water and thinking about life for an hour. He could probably think all there was to think about life in the span of a minute. Soon, it turned off and Data stepped out. Geordi was _very_ aware that there was a warm, naked android body next to him. He shifted a half-step to the corner and tilted his head downward as Data toweled himself off.

When he saw Data sit on the rim of the bathtub again to put on his boots, Geordi turned around. And laughed.

Data looked up in alarm.

“Nothing, just, um, your hair.” It was wet and flat down on his head, sticking up in random sections. Geordi reached for his comb in his pocket and passed it over to Data. “Looks very – natural?”

“Oh. Thank you.” Data took the comb and efficiently parted his hair, until it looked like a very wet version of how he had his hair before. “In theory, I have the ability to warm up my internal temperature to such a degree that any liquid on my skin is vaporized immediately.”

 _He’s so fucking cool._ “Yeah? Why don’t you?”

“I try not to act more inhuman than necessary.” It was said confidently, in Data’s usual tone and cadence – which only made the statement so much sadder. Geordi was dumbstruck by it, staring at Data, unable to think of a rejoinder that was more eloquent than _Data, that’s so sad._ Data quickly brushed himself off. “I believe I will exit the party and return back to my dormitory.”

“I’ll walk you.” Geordi’s hand was already on the door-handle, but Data shook his head in response.

“If you fear for my safety, know that I will be able to fend off any potential assailant. Although I do not attack unless provoked, the external force that I am able to produce --- “

“ _Okay okay okay.”_ He placed both hands up. “How about this. What if I happened to leave the party at the same time as you, and we just so happened to be walking in the same direction all the way back to your dorm?”

“That would not make sense.” Data seemed content to leave it at that, but as Geordi dropped his hands in surrender, he corrected. “But I would allow you to join me, for company, if that is your implication.”

“I’ll take that. Let’s get going. I think I’ve had just about enough of this place.”


	5. The First Night

Together, they exited the bathroom and made their way down the stairs. The momentary distraction from pranking the android (at least fifteen minutes ago, now) was forgotten, and people were back to enjoying the party to its full potential. Geordi wondered if he should look for the others, and then decided against it. He’d find them in the morning, between his classes, maybe. And god, did he have a story to tell them.

Outside, the cool night air sobered Geordi up further. It was chilly. He knew his thoughts still weren’t as tight as they were normally, and a nice warm bed sounded like the best place to be, and he kinda really had to pee, but he could actually concentrate and focus, now. He could look at his surroundings and at least be moderately confident that he was not about to walk into the street. It was good.

Data walked beside him, seemingly unbothered by the cold. He gave his address. It was the dorm next to Geordi’s, a pleasant coincidence – it was hard to imagine _Data_ in a dormitory, and he remarked so.

“I have a roommate who believes the same as you do. He is human in nature. He does not seem to mind my company, but he also does not seek it out. In truth, he does not seem to regard me as a living being, but instead as some form of personal assistant.” Geordi winced. “What is wrong?”

“I feel like every story you tell me is about how terribly people treat you, Data. It just makes me … feel bad, I guess?”

“Why?”

“Because – okay, _Starfleet_ kept you locked up in Engineering, you always sit alone during lunch, some jackasses threw a prank on you at a party, and your roommate treats you like a butler. How is that not _incredibly_ depressing?” Geordi asked. They were walking on the side of the street, lit only by the dim blue of the lamps overhead. He had stuck his hands in his pocket to keep himself warm, but it wasn’t doing much. But hey, anything was better than being at that party full of assholes.

Data hadn’t thought of that question before, clearly – or maybe he was just trying to think of a way to phrase it to the poor, simple-minded human. Geordi preferred to think of the first solution. “They have recently run the street-cleaners,” he announced, and Geordi figured that the streets did look a little more clean than usual. “You have seen the machine they use to do that?”

“Well, yeah. It’s a big, you know, like a whale – “ Geordi held his hands out to the side, trying to mimic the relative size of it. “ _Zzzzrrrrrrrr._ Makes that noise. Woke me up yesterday.”

“Would you say you treat the street-cleaning machine like a person?”

“N … no? I mean, I don’t think I treat the street-cleaning machine like anything at all. I mean, I wouldn’t go out and kick it for fun.”

“But you do not thank it for cleaning the streets, nor do you inquire as to its well-being.”

“No, of course not. My dad probably would, though.”

“That is how people think of me.” Data’s eyes were cast down on the street. “The term ‘android’ conveys a very simple connotation, in reviewing human media – a machine that is set to do different tasks. People do not believe it is possible to disrespect me, as much as they do not think it possible to disrespect a toaster. That is why I generally receive indifference or disdain in response to my presence, even if I am somewhat anthropomorphized. I attribute their behavior to ignorance about the depth of my programming, not outright malevolence.”

“Yeah. I guess. But you’re not – “ Geordi huffed out a breath of fresh air. It was growing colder, seeping into his bones. “It doesn’t matter _why_ they treat you badly. It’s _that_ they treat you badly. You’re not a toaster. I mean, I’ve been talking to you for all of a few hours and I know that much. You’re basically like everyone else.”

“No, Geordi.” Data’s voice was confident. “I am not.”

The answer seemed obvious in retrospect, even if Geordi was only trying to make Data feel better. He guessed it was futile, anyway. Data didn’t have feelings. Geordi couldn’t probably verbalize why it bugged him so much to see people treating Data badly, but he still couldn’t let it go in his mind. Data didn’t have feelings and didn’t have pain, but it was still _wrong._

In silence, they approached the dormitory. “I’ll walk you to your room,” Geordi offered, because it only seemed polite. He was also beginning to realize how _weird_ the night had been. Geordi thought of himself as a pretty okay guy – on the spectrum of human morality – but he wasn’t the knight in shining armor to sweep up the poor, disliked nobody in the middle of the party. That just wasn’t who he was. That was, like, that was a guy like James T. Kirk, or something.

Even moreso, he didn’t really want the night to end yet. He liked this guy. Data was fascinating, and interesting to talk to, and asked questions that Geordi never would have thought of before.

They walked towards Data’s room, and Geordi saw a sock hanging off the edge of the door-handle. _Oh, really? Tonight, out of every possible night in the world? Seriously. Data can’t catch any luck, can he?_

Data rose an eyebrow, puzzled, and reached forward to pull it off and open it. Geordi stopped him, wrapping a hand around his wrist, and pulled it back. “Uh.”

“Yes?”

“You might want to, um – you shouldn’t go in there. Right now.”

Data looked towards the sock, and towards Geordi, and Geordi was pretty sure he could physically see the questions written on Data’s face. He hoped that Data’s roommate wasn’t in there to hear him explain this – though, given his treatment of Data, maybe he deserved a little mood-killer. Almost in spite, Geordi raised his voice a little.

“A sock on the door is kind of a sign that you have company over, and do not want to be disturbed. It’s kind of rude he didn’t text you to let you know about it.”

“But he often has company over, and he often tells me that I am disturbing them.”

Well, what was the use in beating around the bush with an android? “Sex, Data. They’re having sex and it’ll be very awkward if you interrupt them.” Data’s face returned to normal status, question answered. “Come on. You can stay at my dorm.”

It wasn’t like he really had room, but the idea of Data waiting outside of his dorm for his roommate to get his rocks off was _additionally_ depressing. He expected Data to decline, anyway, but to his surprise, he nodded his head.

“Thank you, Geordi. I do not want to interrupt their intercourse. I understand it is very important to many Starfleet cadets that they achieve sexual climax regularly.”

They exited back out into the cold, trudged across the quickly-freezing quad to reach Geordi’s dorm, and let themselves in. Geordi was glad to be inside his actual room, the sense of familiarity and comfort sweeping over him. _And_ it was warmer. Geordi realized when he saw his bed that he was absolutely _exhausted._ Jesus, sometimes wearing out the VISOR hit him like nothing else. Hard to explain that to people. _Sorry, I was looking too much and it made me sleepy._

Still, he looked around his quarters for an additional sleeping spot. He didn’t even have a couch, yet, with how quickly he moved in. A bed had suited his purposes just fine, and Geordi honestly hadn’t expected to make friends to put on said couch. It was on the to-do list among five thousand other things and just hadn’t seemed that important.

“What time would you like me to wait until I leave for my dormitory?” Data asked, standing awkwardly by his front door. His head almost brushed the frame of it, reminding Geordi again of how tall he was.

“What?” Geordi turned around to face him. “Don’t leave.” Nope. He corrected himself. “You don’t have to leave, Data. Stay here for as long as you feel comfortable – _you can stay here for as long as you feel comfortable._ I’m just trying to think of where to put you.”

‘Put me?”

“To sleep. Do you sleep?”

“No. However, I do sit in my bed and shut my eyes for long periods of time to work on my internal subroutines. That is somewhat similar to human sleep, though I do not lose consciousness. I find it a pleasant technique to mimic human life.”

“So it’d make you feel more comfortable. Okay.” Geordi began to think of gradually more complex plans, such as ringing up his neighbor (ugh, _no),_ requesting an empty sleeping bag from the replicator (that’d take _forever_ to program), or even placing all the uniforms and coats he owned on the floor to act as a mat (that seemed somewhat disrespectful). Finally, the lure of the bed proved too much and Geordi yawned, frustrated at himself.

Geordi fell down on his bed face-first before half-curling on on himself. He shuffled to the very edge of it near the wall. “Just sleep in my bed, Data. I mean – _if you want, you can sleep in my bed._ It’s –” He broke off into another yawn, reaching for his pillow. It felt good to close his eyes. “It’s fine.”

There was no movement from the other edge of the dorm room for a long minute. Then Geordi felt the other side of the bed dip down as Data sat on it. He rearranged his limbs so that he was lying flat on his back, hands folded on his stomach. It was such a stiffly uncomfortable position that Geordi peeked at him from over his shoulder and snorted.

“Get under the covers.” he yawned again, not bothering to change it into a question or an offer.

Data complied, again not speaking a word to him. Geordi thought that was weird, but he was also drunk and exhausted and he could hear his mother telling him, _don’t sleep with your VISOR on, you’ll have a terrible migraine in the morning,_ but the bed was so comfortable and his eyes felt _fine_ as long as they were shut.

The VISOR remained on his mind as he drifted off into sleep. The last thought of consciousness struck him: _huh. Data didn’t ask about the VISOR once._

***

Geordi woke up alone.

Well, he presumed alone. He also woke up blind – more blind than usual.

“Mmh?” Geordi mumbled in confusion, fumbling at the front of his face for the VISOR. Not there. At first, he worried that he had somehow managed to snap the connectors off in his sleep, but that couldn’t be _right._ The pain alone would’ve had him waking up. It felt like tugging something out of his _temples._

When he rolled over, he expected to touch hard silicone or a soft uniform. Instead, he felt nothing but bed. He stuck his hand out blindly and reached out, before his fingers brushed something small and familiar on the other pillow. His VISOR.

How had _that_ gotten over there? However it happened, Geordi was grateful. It meant that he was free from a migraine this morning. Well, a VISOR-induced migraine. He had a dehydration headache brewing deep inside his head, still. Fingers curling around the VISOR, Geordi carefully re-attached it to either side of his head and surveyed his surroundings.

The other side of the bed was neatly made, tucked in with an almost military precision. He checked the time without even really needing to – it was still dark outside, although dawn was beginning to peek over the horizon. They didn’t have class for another few hours. Geordi nonetheless got out of bed and searched his dorm and bathroom, looking for (even if he knew it was futile) some sort of note.

Nothing. It was as if Data was never there.

… Huh. He was … _hurt?_ Why did Data leaving _hurt_ him?

It wasn’t like he had plans with Data in the morning, or even that they had made plans for the night. Data coming over had nearly been an act of serendipity. Still, for some reason, it hurt Geordi to think of Data getting up, quietly and efficiently making Geordi’s bed, and then leaving without so much as a goodbye. His eyes went to his VISOR again, so lovingly placed on his pillow, and he made the connection. Data _had taken off his VISOR_ so that he wouldn’t wake up in pain _._

His heart fluttered.

He wasn’t sure what to think anymore. Maybe Data hadn’t understood the offer to let him stay the night, or maybe Data had been called elsewhere. Still, he checked his communicator, wondering if _maybe_ Data had left his own communicator number. Nothing. It was as if the entire night had been a dream, except for his hands still smelling like old hydraulic fluid. Ugh..

Geordi collapsed back onto his bed with a grunt, annoyed. One thing was for sure – he wanted to talk with someone about this. He reached for his communicator and curled up on his bed, scrolling through his numbers before finding the group message with him, Talia, Lyra, Matt, and Jorge.

_I’m sure none of you are awake, but when you wake up, call me. You will not BELIEVE the night I’ve had._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's another update - and the first meeting between Geordi and Data. When I initially planned out this fic, it ended right here, but I liked writing Academy-era Geordi and Data so much that I eventually fleshed it out to a full plot. Thanks all for reading and comments/kudos!


	6. List of Distinction

In the next few weeks of the semester, it was as if that particular night ever happened. It wasn’t a natural sort of forgetting – he shared no knowing smiles with Data whenever he saw him, no polite conversation, no shared invitations for activities. Data still sat and ate alone at lunch. A sheer and immediate cut-off. What was more concerning was that Data pointedly ignored eye contact whenever Geordi looked towards him in _Basic Warp Design,_ and quickly left the premises the first few occasions that Geordi went up to him to say _hey man, what’s up, you remember when a load of cadets dumped hydraulic fluid on you, what’s up with that_. And yet – probably due to Data’s design – there was never any _discomfort_ in his movements, never any sign that Geordi had made a catastrophic error that had deeply offended him.

Although Geordi hadn’t been expecting a _medal,_ he had sort of gotten the idea that maybe he and Data could be friends.

It was incredibly weird. Geordi had relayed every detail to his new friends, who _also_ agreed that it was incredibly weird. He’d been thankful that, although they didn’t understand the depth of Data’s personhood all that much (not like Geordi understood it much, anyway), they weren’t rude to him. In fact, he’d been able to academically freak out with Lyra over some of Data’s capabilities. _Lyra, he can warm up his skin to immediately dry himself on contact. How cool is that._

He hadn’t mentioned Data again to his parents, though he faithfully called every week about everything else going on in his life. It wasn’t intentional. Just that there seemed nothing to tell. He’d talked with Data a lot that night, and then, for whatever reason, Data never wanted to talk with him again. Whining about that to his mother seemed childish – and whining about that to his father would be weird.

That was okay. It was all okay. After a few weeks had passed, Geordi found that he’d more-or-less gotten used to it. He reaffirmed his title as _not the knight in shining armor,_ _not the hero of Data’s story_ and moved on. In the end, Geordi didn’t want his reputation in Starfleet to be _that guy who helped the android at the party once_. He just wanted to be a really, really good engineer, and that was all, and maybe a friendship with Data wasn’t meant to be.

He focused on his studies for the end of the month, whereupon the middle of the semester rolled around. Both Geordi and Lyra had kept their eyes on the list of distinction: a list that indicated which cadets, if any, were doing exceptionally well academically. The general rumor was that any cadet who was on the distinction list _basically_ had their pick of starship come graduation. And Geordi was going to be _damned_ if he was going to be put on some junk escort starship, and Lyra was going to be _doubly-damned_ if she was put on a starship at all.

“We’re going to be on it. I mean, there’s no way, right?” Geordi asked as he secured his belongings in his bag. He fiddled with the latch and tied it tight.

Lyra nodded firmly. “We’ve gotten some of the top scores on all the examinations. There’s no way.”

Still, Geordi had a faint prickle of anxiety as they walked through the halls. Sure, _he_ knew he was good, but what if he was deluding himself? What if he barely had what it took to be an engineer in Starfleet? He _had_ learned a hell of a lot in the past half-semester, so maybe he wasn’t all that good to begin with, but maybe every other Engineering cadet was secretly a font of knowledge.

“If we’re not on it – “ Lyra frowned, reaching up to habitually fiddle with her earring chain. “Then – “

“Well, Talia will riot, for one thing.”

“Talia will riot,” Lyra agreed. “And you’ll be heartbroken. And drinks with Matt are going to be awkward.”

Geordi flushed. Yes, Matt had agreed to take him to get drinks after the list went up ( _because you’ll need it, Geordi, you’ve been on edge for weeks)._ And while it wasn’t explicitly a date, it was _sort of_ a date, and that was close enough. Geordi had hoped that it would be one of celebration, instead of drowning his worries.

He had considered asking Matt out formally, but something had stopped him. Sure, Matt was handsome, a nice guy, decent at sports. He was Medical track, but Geordi could forgive him for that. Some people just weren’t cut out to be an engineer. If he asked Geordi out on a date, he’d say yes, so why didn’t Geordi want to ask him in return?

It was too much to think about this early in the morning. He just needed to say yes, get over the first date jitters, and realize he was a perfectly nice guy to date.

Geordi felt nails digging into his arm. Lyra had grabbed his bicep and squeezed it, making Geordi wince in pain. “ _They’ve got the list up already,”_ Lyra spoke in a hushed tone, as if they’d entered a sacred chamber.

And there, Geordi could see it. Dozens of cadets scrambling to see The List, surging forward to try and view their names. Each list was divided by tracks; the stampede near Command looked almost violent. He heard a shout of despair from a brunette boy towards the front, who soon stormed off. Some left in triumph, others left in misery, but it was a constantly changing whirlpool of people that left Geordi feeling approximately thirty times more anxious than before. He groaned and put his hand over Lyra’s.

“Doesn’t look like it’s very long. Look, I think that’s the Engineering one over there,” he offered. There it was, a somewhat more thinly populated crowd than the rest. That wasn’t a surprise : Engineering was not only a smaller track than some of the flashier departments, but also notoriously, awfully difficult to do well in.

Lyra took a deep breath to calm herself. “I can go. And check for both of us, if you want.”

Geordi aborted that idea immediately. “No. We check together.”

And together they went up, fighting through the horde of people. Even if the horde was smaller, Geordi couldn’t help but tell that they were _louder._ They got closer and Geordi suddenly realized why. Most of the sounds were disappointed sighs.

In the List of Distinction for the Engineering Department, there were only three names in total. He and Lyra were still too far away to make them out, but he heard Lyra give a whimper of surprise – or maybe it was him. _Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no._

“You do it, Geordi, you go up and look, I can’t,” Lyra suddenly broke out, trying to pull away from his arm. Geordi shook his head and pulled her a step forward. He wasn’t going to deliver the bad news to Lyra, if there were any.

“We made it this far. Let’s get going.”

Together, they stepped forward to see whether their many sleepless nights, the countless projects, the papers, the research, the studying, the _effort_ had granted them what they wanted. Three names. _Three names._

LIST OF DISTINCTION

Korlack Jazen

Geordi La Forge

Kel Lyra

He was hugging Lyra before it even registered in his mind. Lyra hugged him back as they laughed, both at being on the list and on even worrying at all. The other huddled Engineering cadet swelled around them, jostling them. “I knew you would be – you were doing so well – “

“If you hadn’t helped me with those ion processes, Geordi – “

“ _Please._ You’re blocking the list.”

The two friends separated, and Geordi looked at the man who had interrupted them. He was a Benzite. Huh, weird. He didn’t think Benzites frequently enrolled in Starfleet due to their specific atmospheric needs. This one was shorter than normal, a completely pale, smooth blue color. Dimly, Benzites always reminded Geordi of catfish.

Their defining characteristic was a large harmonica-like (at least to Geordi) device stationed in front of their mouths, to assist them in breathing a nitrogen-oxygen environment. Given that all Starfleet ships ran in a nitrogen-oxygen environment, it usually prevented most from enrolling – while most vessels, Geordi would hope, would be happy to accommodate where they could, Geordi also suspected that there was something exhausting about needing to require a breathing apparatus all the time that put most Benzites off the idea.

Geordi thought that this Benzite might have been in his Basic Warp Design class, but he wasn’t positive about it. If they had any shared kinship because of their shared assistive devices, Geordi didn't feel it and this man didn't show it. He was certainly _pushing past them_ like he didn’t give a damn.

“Sorry, just excited. Go on,” Geordi stationed with a wave of his hand, urging the man onward. Thrill still shot down through his veins and into his heart, making him almost jittery with pleasure. _You made the List, Geordi. You have to go call Mom and Dad ASAP._ And then – _And then you have to go get ready for drinks with Matt._ _Oh, god, and you have to call everyone back home and let them know. You should just tattoo it on your forehead, right?_

Dazed, Geordi looked over to the other lists to try and see if any of his friends were there. He didn’t think so – although he liked his friends well enough, academic superiority was not something they regularly aimed for.

The Operations division of Starfleet, as opposed to Science or Command, probably had the most specializations. Geordi knew some Ops people who were going to be going into security, or communication, or tactical, or engineering, or – in Data’s case – no specializations at all, an operations officer, responsible for manning a little bit of everything that went on in a ship.

He wanted to go check the general Operations List of Distinction, which was quite a bit larger, to find Data’s name. He quickly stopped himself. _First of all,_ of course Data was on the goddamn list. They ought to just engrave it there. _Second of all,_ Data hadn’t so much as looked at him in weeks since the party, and Geordi convinced himself that he didn’t care.

“ _Yes!”_ The Benzite announced when he approached. “I _simply_ knew it. I knew I would arrive. And _first_ on the list, too.”

Geordi had just formally met Korlack Jazen, he supposed.

“I don’t think the order of the list has anything to do with it,” Lyra interrupted, stepping forward. She put her finger on it and explained patiently: “It’s alphabetical. See? Jazen, La Forge, Lyra.”

“No, it has to do with merit. Alphabetical wouldn’t make sense. You see, Bajoran last names go _first._ So it would be Jazen, La Forge, Kel, which _isn’t_ alphabetical. The only way _left_ is by merit.”

Lyra, the Bajoran, blinked at him. “I … I know. But Starfleet doesn’t take into account first-name last name order. It’s just how it appears on the form. I have to explain that to my professors all the time.”

Korlack stopped. Geordi watched as he honest-to-god _stomped_ his foot on the ground and guessed that some symptoms of brattiness were universal. “ _No._ that wouldn’t make sense. It has to do with merit. It’s not _my_ fault that you were _last_ on the list. Maybe you should have tried harder.”

Lyra was not a conflict-driven person. Although Geordi would rather die (because Talia had ears everywhere) than call her weak, Lyra’s home life on Bajor had been turbulent and frightening and violence of any sort brought her right back there. She was gentle and sweet and spoke softly and was now looking at Geordi for assistance, and Geordi was glad to give it to her.

“Hey, man,” Geordi stepped in, raising his hands. “It doesn’t matter. Congratulations for making the list at all. Lyra, you want to go celebrate? I’m sure you’re itching to tell Talia.” She flushed at that, giving a little nod. “Nice to meet you, uh, Korlack?” He stuck his hand out for greeting, but Korlack rejected it.

Korlack grumbled somewhat behind his respirator. “You as well.” He looked at the list, peering close at it and making a deduction. “Gourdi.”

That wasn’t anywhere close, but in Geordi’s opinion, he had already spent about five minutes too long with this guy. He only gave a polite laugh, turned around, and started to push himself away from the crowd. _Yup, Gourdi. That’s me. The talking pumpkin._

“ _Kosst,”_ Lyra muttered under her breath, and Geordi had retained enough Bajoran from the colony to know what that meant.

“Asshole,” Geordi agreed.

Either way, he wasn’t going to let it tarnish his good day. He was going to go bask in Matt’s admiration for the duration of his lunch, he was going to be quietly jealous for the long-term comfortable relationship that Lyra and Talia had, and then he was going to feel better about himself by listening to Jorge complain about nothing and create conspiracy theories from nowhere.

It was going to be good. This was confirmation that Geordi was doing good.

Outside, it was getting just cold enough during the day to start to make the cadets think about eating indoors. Geordi wasn’t a fan of that. He still found himself appreciating the actual air of the outdoors, the way the sun shone down, the firm Earth beneath his feet. But he figured it was for the best – and had to admit that sometimes the pathways in the morning were covered in frost, which was distinctly _unpleasant._ By the time he was assigned to a starship again (a _good_ starship, if he kept the List thing up), he was going to become too used to Earth.

They sat down together to break the news. Talia and Matt both let out a whoop of congratulations, and they settled into easy conversation. Talia’s arm was firmly over her girlfriend’s shoulders, and Lyra still kept a dark red flush over her face.

 _Must be nice,_ Geordi found himself thinking wistfully, _To have that kind of connection with someone immediately. To just sort of link up like that._

“Only three. _Wow,_ Geordi,” Matt remarked pleasantly. “I mean, we all know you’re the smart one of the group – “

“ _With Lyra,”_ Talia warned _._

“ _With Lyra,_ but it’s good to get confirmation. Unless, I mean, you just used your fancy VISOR to cheat off Lyra’s papers?”

They were good enough friends that Geordi didn’t take it to heart, but Geordi was also a competitive enough man _not_ to fire back at a joke like that. He laughed, but was probably a little too quick to answer: “Please. The VISOR is great, but Lyra sits in the back row. It’s not that great.”

Jorge broke in. “Yeah. He just writes the answers in invisible ink on the walls and then uses the _VISOR –_ “

“Where do you come _up_ with this stuff, Jorge,” Matt complained, resting his cheek on his hand. “Are you sure you wanna do Tactical? I think the ‘ _Making Up Bullshit’_ division has an opening for you.”

“Hey,” Talia joked. “Don’t talk shit on the diplomacy specialization.”

Either way, Geordi laughed along with them. He had started to restrain that competitive streak he had – mostly because his test scores, at least for Basic Warp Design, were right up there with Data’s, an actual android. That soothed his ego, even if jackasses like Korlack wanted to set him off.

“Who was the third name on the list?” Matt finally asked, turning towards Geordi. “From the bottom to the top, it was Lyra, you, and …?”

“You know, maybe it was _reverse_ merit.” Talia was teasing Lyra directly, now, her voice lightly cajoling in a way that made Geordi wish he had a long-term partner he could be alone in a room full of people with. “You first, then Geordi, then the jackass.”

“The jackass’ name was Korlack Jazen.” Geordi explained, and he saw no flicker of recognition in their name. “He’s a Benzite. Honestly, I didn’t even think we had any Benzites enrolled, but he’s … “ His eyes drifted away from the table, as they often did, to look at the tree where Data usually took his lunch. Sometimes, he even debated on stomping up the hill to demand an explanation out of him, but … well, Data always fled wherever Geordi entered. Geordi didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable at lunch, of all places.

Data was sitting there, as normal: not eating, but instead reading through a PADD. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Korlack himself and another cadet ( _human, brunette, white, Geordi didn’t recognize him)_ start to head up the hill. There was no other person they could be trying to meet.

Maybe Data had made other friends, somewhere in the few weeks since they’d last met. Oh. Well, that was understandable. Data was a nice guy, he deserved way more friends than he currently had (zero to dubiously one), and maybe this was a good thing. Granted, Geordi sort of half-heartedly wish that Data had made better taste in friends than a guy like Korlack, but it wasn’t Geordi’s place to say. Maybe he and Data just weren’t meant to be.

Meant to be … friends, that is.

“I think your VISOR is short-circuiting your brain, man,” Matt joked, and he felt a warm hand at his shoulder. Geordi shook his head but didn’t avert his eyes.

“Sorry. Just, there he is, up there. Talking to Data. With …?”

“Oh, god. That’s Kagrin.” Talia groaned, resting her cheek in her hand. “Probably the biggest tool in Command division. He asked me if we really had public orgies on Orion. In our first conversation. Like, he was leering, it felt weird.”

“Makes sense why he’s friends with Korlack. Douchebags tend to be stocked together.”

“Yeah. Kagrin didn’t make the List for Command division and I think he’s been pissed off about it. Oh,” Talia said, as if struck by realization. “Geordi, you remember that party a few weeks back? Where you got down and dirty with Data?”

“I did not get _down and dirty with Data._ He took a shower while I was in the room, that’s the extent of how steamy it got.” Geordi paused. “But yeah.”

“I was looking into who’d do something like that to him. Because that’s shitty, even for elitist Command cadet standards. Figured that it’s Kagrin, if that gives you some sort of idea about the kind of person he is. I heard him bragging about it during class yesterday, thought you might want to know. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he got the actual hydraulic fluid from Korlack. Korlack spends a lot of time in the engineering labs, specializes in transport.”

Oh. That was a surprise, for sure. Geordi wasn’t sure if he should have gone up and confronted the both of them about it. It wasn’t as if Data was upset over the whole matter, and he wasn’t even sure if Data knew who did it. Maybe it was best to let the thing go. He wasn’t Data’s keeper, or his babysitter, or his _dad,_ and it wasn’t like they’d played a prank against him. Still, Geordi let himself fantasize about dunking Kagrin’s pretty brunette head in a bucket of hydraulic oil for a second.

Airily, he queried: “So I wonder why they’re talking to him, now.”

“Apologiz … no, yeah, I couldn’t even get the word out, there’s no chance in hell either of them have felt regret in their lives,” Matt considered. Now the entire table was watching Korlack and Kagrin speak with Data on top of the hill, the List momentarily forgotten in light of this new development. They seemed to be chatting. Data tilted his head to the side, curious, before placing his PADD in his bag.

Geordi watched in shock as Data rose from his position. He slowly started to descend back down the hill, towards one of the academic buildings – Korlack and Kagrin trailing a little too close behind him.


	7. Making Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: bullying, brief mentions of sexual coercion

Nobody in the La Forge family really believed in the supernatural that much. His Mom, however, was a staunch supporter in things that couldn’t be seen or explained – like a gut feeling. She said she’d always learned to trust her instincts, even as his Dad remained smooth and methodical in everything he did. He thought gut hunches were the signs of a brain misfiring. As he got older, Geordi found that he subscribed more to his mother’s way of thinking. Even in Engineering, one could _feel_ the right answer before they consciously _knew_ it. Sometimes, Geordi just had unexplainable dread that something was about to go very, very wrong.

It was present, now, deep in his stomach. Geordi was nauseated, and all he could remember was the _gong!_ of the bucket striking his head.

“I’m gonna go check it out. Um,” Geordi stood from his spot on the table, eyes never leaving the retreating trio. Data held the door open for them, and soon they were all out of eyesight. Geordi flicked through the filters – thank god that Data stood out like a beacon, with all of his hardware, and he could see them retreating down the hallway.

“Are we still on for drinks tonight, Geordi?” He heard Matt ask behind him, but he’d already taken a few steps away.

Without looking back, Geordi mumbled, “Yeah, sure,” and continued his pursuit. He wasn’t even sure of what he had said.

They had gone back into one of the Academy engineering buildings – by the time Geordi had opened the door and let himself in, no filter in the VISOR could find Data. There was too much wiring and pipes in the walls to see very far. Geordi’s boots clicked on the linoleum flooring as he tried to figure out which way they would’ve gone, scanning through everything that he could think of. He lost two minutes because he spot movement, only to find that it was a mouse scurrying through the top of the ceiling. Geordi stopped and let out a grunt of disgust.

A bust of Montgomery Scott, tragically MIA too soon, looked down at him with kindly eyes, asking him the same question Geordi was asking himself. _Where did they go, laddie?_ “Yeah, I know, I know,” he grumbled under his breath, looking down both hallways briefly.

He heard a noise. No, it was more than a noise – it was the direct, monotone voice of one Cadet Data.

Normally, Geordi wouldn’t be able to hear it. But the hallways were smooth and the walls smoother, and the voice reverberated down it, amplified until it reached Geordi’s ears. As soon as he heard it, he sprinted towards the source like a man possessed, because what he heard was Data’s voice quietly requesting: “ _Please do_ _not_ _.”_

He rounded the corner to see Data with his back pressed against the wall. Significantly shorter, Korlack was standing somewhat to the side and watching the main villain of the performance: Kagrin held a beaker of something green and yellow and clearly _hot_ in his hands. He forcefully pressed the lip of it against Data’s mouth. Data was firmly trying to stay away from it. Geordi noticed that even now, his hands were limp at his sides. Pressed into the wall like he was, Data was rapidly running out of places to go.

Geordi had no idea what was in the beaker, but given both Kagrin and Korlack were wearing industrial gloves, he figured it wasn’t good. Steam rose up from it, curling towards the ceiling.

_Oh, to hell with this._

“What the _hell_ are you doing!?” Geordi shouted, shocked enough that it practically came out as gibberish. He approached Kagrin first, yanking him back by the arm holding the beaker. It wasn’t Geordi’s brightest idea. The liquid in the beaker sloshed around and finally – in a fateful wave – splashed _out_ of the beaker, landing on the smooth floors below. Geordi could hear the sizzling and bubbling. Looking down, he saw a small hole had started to eat through the flooring.

_Acid!? What kind of psychopathic shit –_

“Shit, watch yourself,” Kagrin muttered, placing a hand on Geordi’s shoulder. It was, by all matters, not a harsh shove. “That stuff would’ve eaten right through your skin.”

Geordi looked in confusion from the sizzling acid on the floor, to Kagrin, to Data. Kagrin was looking out for him – meanwhile, Data was covering his hands with his mouth. His eyes were wider than normal while he considered the entire situation, and Geordi couldn’t see whether any of the acid had actually gotten _on_ him.

“What the _hell.”_ Geordi repeated, yanking the flask from Kagrin’s grasp. Now more than half-empty, it posed little thread for spillage. And yet, Geordi had to cautiously admit that holding it in his hands probably wasn’t the smartest decision. “Are you _doing.”_

“You’ve heard him in Basic Warp Design,” Korlack commented, wringing his hands together nervously. His eyes darted up to Data once, and then settled back on Geordi. “He talks constantly. He answers _every_ question. It’s annoying. I don’t know why he’s allowed to answer anything, he’s just some science experiment that the Engineering departments are bringing in.” And then, Korlack clearly tried another angle, tilting his head to the side. The various tubes that connected his breathing apparatus to his face tilted with him. “Besides, we’re not in danger. He’s not programmed to hurt people. See?”

Kagrin shot Geordi a wide, apologetic smile. “Sure, maybe it’s a little bit of a prank, but it’s not hurting anyone, just frying the android’s vocal cords. It’ll be better for everyone in the long run, don’t you think? So the actual cadets can learn, answer questions. I mean, you heard how a couple of cadets used one of the science lab to make liquid nitrogen-ice cream last week, ended up getting written up for it? This is way less disruptive. You know, comparatively. We’re really just looking out for the, hah.” He elbowed Geordi in a fraternal sort of way. “Flesh and bloods, eh?”

Maybe Geordi had been spoiled, being placed on relatively high-profile starships. But he’d never talked to any crewmember, from ensign to Captain, who showed such blatant … _narrow-mindedness._ He could feel blood pump in his ears. _Disruptive._ Calling Data _disruptive._

Geordi didn’t return Kagrin’s smile or assuage Korlack’s nervousness. Instead, he gripped the glass beaker tighter. “Get out,” he commanded, with more authority than he officially possessed. Geordi might have been a few inches shorter than Kagrin, sure, but he felt like he was about seven foot tall. He fixed both with a glare. “And don’t you _ever_ talk to Data again. You understand? Don’t look at him. Don’t mess with him. Don’t you fucking _dare._ ”

“Well, look here, uh ...” That seemed to genuinely shake Kagrin, and he took a step back from the incident. He glanced down towards his companion, wordlessly asking a question.

“His name is Gourdi,” Korlack broke in, to which Geordi firmly corrected him.

“Geordi, then. You’re a cadet, same as I am. I don’t think you have any authority to be giving us commands, you know? It’s not like we’re hurting a _person._ We’re not monsters, man. You know, we’re Starfleet.” Kagrin flashed him another smile – Geordi saw that one of his teeth, two past his canine, was unusually pointed. It gave him the look of a roguish grin. “Starfleet accepts everyone, but they tend to turn their noses up at monsters, right? He’s just a hunk of junk. Really well-polished junk, but you know how eggheads can get. Taking their experiment too seriously. If Data keeps being a know-it-all in the classes, how are the rest of us gonna learn anything?”

“I don’t care.” Geordi stated, point-blank. “If I ever see you talking to Data again, I’m going to report you for – “ He tried to think of what they _could_ be reported before. He wasn’t even sure if Data had a personhood, even a legally recognized one. Did Data have a birth certificate? Did Data even have a Starfleet record? He had to, right? If anything, Geordi opted for what he presumed was the safest option: “Damaging Starfleet property. And then see where you get put on a starship. _If_ they don’t delay your graduation ‘cause of it. Who’s gonna want two cadets that break stuff for fun?”

That seemed to work. Kagrin’s smile disappeared, and Korlack’s anxious hand-wringing continued. Kagrin looked between Geordi, to Data, and then huffed out a hostile sigh. No more words were exchanged. He pushed past Geordi, shoulder-checking him hard as he did so. It was hard enough that another few drops of acid spilled past the beaker onto the floor. Geordi let out a squeak of a voice – shattering any dignity that he thought he had – and jumped back, but none got on him.

But it worked well enough. They were gone. Data was still covering his mouth with his hand; Geordi placed the beaker on the floor and approached him. His fingers wrapped around Data’s wrist tenderly, starting to pull it away. “Hey. Did they get any on you?”

Data brought his hand away from his mouth. A broad stripe of his outer dermal layer had been stripped away, showing shiny blue circuitry from the bottom of his lip to the bottom of his chin. They must’ve spilled a few drops; the damage seemed to follow the force of gravity. Still, given Data’s unwillingness to speak, Geordi was growing more convinced that they’d actually gotten it _in_ him. If it peeled away his outer dermal layer, he didn’t want to know what it’d do to his insides. Data had to have some equivalent of a voice box, and if _that_ got fried – “Data, talk to me. If you can. I’m worried about you.”

“None of it reached my interior.” His voice was the same constant that Geordi had ever known.

Geordi breathed out a sigh of relief, beaming up at Data.

Data was not smiling. Instead, his lips were brought into a severe frown. The gesture made it quite obvious that Data’s _skin_ was only a thin layer; it crinkled in an odd way against the damaged portions. It was enough to wipe the relief off of Geordi’s face. He sighed. Side-stepping so that he was back-to-the-wall against Data, Geordi slowly slid to the floor. A moment passed before Data mimicked the action until they were sitting on the floor together, thigh-to-thigh.

“What happened?”

“Cadets Korlack and Kagrin commanded me to follow them, as they requested for me to fix an instrument in the laboratories. I complied. When I reached the hallway, Kagrin commanded that I stay as still as I was physically able. Korlack momentarily departed to retrieve the acidic compound. When he returned, Kagrin informed me that he was going to.” Data cut himself off abruptly, reaching to his throat to brush against the polymers there. “He intended to burn my voicebox beyond recognition.”

“Would’ve burned more than just your voicebox,” Geordi grumbled. “I mean, that would have …” After all, it was just going down his _throat._ That could’ve hit everything in his chest cavity. More.

“It would have destroyed my thermoregulatory system, as well as my synthetic biofluid pumping system. My systems would have shut down, and I would have overheated as a result.” Data was staring straight ahead at the opposite wall. “I would have been rendered inoperable in less than five minutes.”

“Why didn’t you fight back? I don’t want to – I mean. I don’t want to blame you for what happened, but Data, I can _see_ your capabilities. You could’ve thrown those guys through the window.” And as Geordi spoke, he did flick through his VISOR filters: he couldn’t know how strong Data was, exactly, but definitely strong enough to throw off two cadets.

“I am programmed for the protection of life. And I am not.” Data stopped himself again, before correcting. “I am not alive in the personhood sense. I do not have ‘life’. Therefore, I will always prioritize the protection of others over my own, no matter the damage for my systems.”

Geordi noted the way he stopped and started his words. If it were anyone else, Geordi would have said that he was _stuttering, overwhelmed._ But this was Data, the android. And there was no concern in his voice, nothing that indicated he was in any way affected by the event. He wondered if it was a simple case of overstimulation. This might’ve been the most violence that Data had personally been through – even moreso than the party and the bucket.

“Data. If people are trying to kill you – and that’s what those guys are doing – you need to protect yourself. You’re way too … talented, I guess? To be rendered inoperable like that. I mean, I’m sure you made the List of Distinction. Not that anyone deserves to be burned to death by a group of cadets, obviously, you could be the shittiest one in your class and still be worthy of … god, you know. Staying safe.”

For whatever reason, Data did not respond to much of what Geordi said. Instead, he quietly murmured, “Yes, I was placed on the List of Distinction.” It was the only answer that Geordi

“Good. I’m sure you worked hard for it.” Geordi tilted his head back against the wall, staring listlessly at the ceiling. He said the same words that he’d said to Data when they’d gotten into the bathroom at the party, and felt – again – like he was the unfortunate ambassador of everyone flesh-and-blood. “I’m sorry, Data.”

And suddenly, the mild irritation he’d been feeling with Data over the past couple of weeks completely disappeared. Sure, made it’d been rude for Data to leave with no explanation, but it looked as if the guy was going through a hell of a lot. Even if the reasons only made sense to Data, they made sense nonetheless. He wouldn’t exactly blame Data for wanting to stay away from living people, especially fellow Stafleet cadets.

Data didn’t respond, which made Geordi think he didn’t hear him.

Geordi reached forward and squeezed Data’s knee, in an act of comfort and sympathy. Data reacted by snapping his knees together and shifting them away from Geordi, and Geordi felt his stomach drop. _What did you just say about Data not wanting to interact with Starfleet cadets. Jesus, Geordi, you should just go right now. Think the damage has been done._ “Sorry.”

“No. I apologize. I am not currently.” Data stopped himself again, in an unusually staccato tone. He was choosing every word separately but carefully. “I have not investigated my sexual programming enough to appropriately consent. It has been dormant since my re-activation.”

_Your what now._

A couple of things clicked into place. _Oh._

“Oh, no, I – Data, I’m not – “ Geordi waved his hands in front of his face in a _no no no no no_ gesture. Jesus, was he sweating? He was definitely starting to sweat from the sheer mortification of it. “I’m not coming onto you.”

Data looked towards him, clearly confused. His head was tilted at a nearly forty-five degree angle.

“It’s not a sex thing. It’s just, a comfort thing. Physical affection. Between humans. Well, between lots of species. The ones that value physical touch as show of familiarity.” Now he was starting to sound like Data. Geordi sighed. “I was expressing sympathy and comfort in a physical sense. Seriously, I won’t touch you if you’re against me doing it, but it was a platonic thing. Promise, not trying to jump you in this hallway.”

“Oh. Have you ever engaged me with sexual intention?”

Considering that this was their second real conversation, Geordi didn’t have to think very long about his answer. “Of course I haven’t. I promise, having sex with you has never _once_ crossed my mind.” Except, now it was, because Data had brought it up. He remembered seeing Data shirtless, sitting on the tub during the party, and his internal questions about his genitalia.

It made Geordi feel skeezy. He stopped and looked at Data more intensely.

Data separated his knees in a more comfortable, human manner (no longer curled up so tightly that Geordi wondered how it was physically possible), turning to rest his back on the wall instead of cringing away from Geordi. “I see. I apologize for my misconception. That clarifies very much, Geordi, thank you. During our last encounter, when you permitted me to sleep in your bed, I was under the impression that you were coercing me into sexual intercourse.”

“ _I was what!?”_ Shocked and alarmed, Geordi leaned up from the wall to look over at Data. He’d nearly choked on his own spit. Data nodded before continuing to clarify.

“I have noticed that sexual intercourse features very prominently in many cadets’ lives. They seemingly use any excuse and any interaction as a precursor to intercourse. At the party, you could not repair my damages in a bedroom because cadets were having intercourse. I could not return to my room because my roommate was having intercourse. You requested that I sleep in your bed. It seemed obvious to me.” Data blinked. “It is not the first time that it has happened. People misinterpret my duties and obligations to service. I inform them that I have not investigated my sexual programming enough to properly consent and leave.”

Geordi wasn’t curtained whether to feel guilty or mortified, so he opted to feel a nauseating mixture of both. He scrubbed his hands over his face. His eyes were starting to burn already, as they did whenever he was stressed. Temporarily detaching the visor, Geordi pressed both palms into his eyes. That felt nicer. “Data,” he sighed, “I am never, ever – _ever! –_ going to coerce you into having sex with me. I’m sorry it came off like that; I didn’t even think. I was seriously just offering you somewhere to sleep. I promise, sex wasn’t even in the picture, at all, it wasn’t meant to be alluring or sexy or – just a place to lay down.”

This was why Data had been ignoring him for weeks? A misunderstanding? An idea that Geordi was some sort of sex hound? Geordi frowned. _Feels like a sitcom,_ he told himself, _where’s the laugh track?_

“I see. My misconceptions have been corrected. I apologize for my behavior.” There was a pressure at his knee. Geordi re-attached his VISOR and saw that Data had moved his hand to Geordi’s knee. Comfortingly, he squeezed the kneecap. Geordi only spared a half-second of thought to how Data could squeeze his kneecap into dust. “To use a human term. No hard feelings?”

There was something so damn _pleased_ in Data’s eyes. Geordi could very well have been reading too much into it; he wasn’t sure if Data could even control that sort of thing, but – god help him – he could’ve sworn that Data was both relieved and happy that this misunderstanding had been sorted out.

“No hard feelings, Data.” Geordi smiled and patted the top of Data’s hand. Data returned the smile. It wasn’t wide and showed no teeth, but it was nice, friendly, and just a little bit shy. He wondered who he’d copied the smile from. _Probably a movie,_ Geordi figured, _where actors trained to learn smiles that would just melt someone’s heart …_

_Oh, no._

_If you start falling for someone who isn’t legally a living person,_ Geordi told himself stupidly, _you’re an idiot._

The barrier that he felt with asking Matt out just didn’t exist anymore when it came to Data. He wasn’t sure why. He didn’t even _think_ much on it, really. He just felt the soft bubbly feelings well up in him and Geordi’s mouth opened automatically.

“Say. What are you doing tonight?” _Idiot,_ Geordi’s mind screamed at him. _Idiot!_ _Are you crazy? You must be nuts. There’s no way that this can end well. None._

“I have class until 8 PM.”

“Whoa. Late.”

“Since I do not require sleep, I chose instead to take as many courses as possible. I am enrolled in seventeen.” Seventeen courses. Geordi was taking six, and even then the academic office had advised against it. He waited for the familiar jealousy streak to hit him, but it didn’t come. Seventeen wasn’t even something he could _hope_ to achieve – it wasn’t human. It sounded sort of scary, actually. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, you’ve got something on your chin, there.” Geordi reached for Data’s chin ( _idiot)_ and pressed his index and middle finger underneath it ( _stupid),_ while running his thumb over the injured area ( _moron_ ). It was smoother than he expected. “I’ve got the stuff to fix it in my dorm, I think, if you let me work on it a little more. Come by after class?” Geordi’s face relaxed into a smile. “Promise, not coming on to you. I just can’t think of anywhere else to help out where we won’t attract attention.”

Geordi’s logical mind started to relax a little. _Okay,_ it seemed to say, _it’s not a date. It’s just helping Data out after he’s been injured. That’s normal. Nice. What friends do for one another._

“I am capable of fixing it myself.” Data advised, and Geordi was ready to back down from it. “But if you fix it, it will become an activity in socialization which is desirable. Yes, I will be at your dormitory at approximately 8:23 PM, if no other obstacles come to me.”

“Here.” Geordi wrote down his communication number on his tablet and passed it over to Data. “In case you do run into some obstacles.” _Or you need your knight in shining armor, which is apparently what I am now, to come in and save the day._ _How did I become_ _t_ _hat,_ _exactly?_ He expected Data to copy it into his own communicator, but before Data wrote anything down, Geordi heard his communicator _buzz._

_Hello, Geordi. This is Data._

“You just did that in your own head,” Geordi mumbled to himself, resisting the urge to throw himself against the wall from sheer wonder. Each new revelation about Data didn’t shock him any less, and didn’t trigger the incredibly nerdy part of his brain any less. _It was all just so cool._ “Okay. Um, easy. Hands-off, right?”

“I do not use my hands in that regard, no.” Data pushed himself up from his position. “Would you like to return to your meal?”

“Yeah. I will. Before we do, um – “ Geordi stood and brushed the dirt off his pants. “Do you want me to report this, to anyone? Or do you want to report it? It is an offense, you know, whatever they think. You’re a cadet, like anyone else, and attempted murder is attempted murder.”

“I do not think it fits the legal criteria of attempted murder.” Data clearly had not considered the question before, and finally he shook his head. “No. They were unaware of what they were doing. They were not convinced of my personhood. If they believed me to be a person, then they would not have done that.”

“I don’t know if I like that explanation, Data.”

“You said you would report them if they spoke to me again. If they speak to me again, then I will go with you to report the offense.” Data finally revised, and Geordi felt himself relax a little more at that. Okay. And, Data added: “I do not wish to draw unnecessary attention to myself. If Starfleet Command suspects that I am unable to cooperate with my fellow cadets, or they suspect that I antagonize them in some way, I will never be permitted to continue my education here. Upon acceptance, they were very explicit about how it was only a trial.”

 _Wow._ Not draw attention to himself. Any more than he already had, Geordi supposed. It was hard _not_ to notice Data. Not only was his skin and eyes shiny enough and yellow enough to be something distinctly mechanical, it was everything about his motor controls and reactions. He wondered, not for the first time, why he was in Starfleet. Hell, why Data wanted to be in Starfleet so badly that he’d put up with all of this for it. Maybe he had some sort of operator? A user? An _owner_ briefly flashed through Geordi’s mind, before he put a stop to it. Nope. Couldn’t own a living being. That wasn’t a pet. _Or a plant,_ Geordi’s mind unhelpfully supplied.

It was way too personal to ask, though, and Geordi saved it for a later date. He didn’t think Data would mind answering, either, but the guy’s privacy had been invaded again and again. He deserved to just be treated normally, now, even if Geordi never pitied the man more. Data had to walk a fine, fine line here, and it just wasn’t fair. Saying that would solve nothing, and Data didn’t want to cause waves, so Geordi felt stuck.

Data turned to walk down the opposite end of the hallway from the courtyard, and Geordi stopped him. “Where are you going?”

“I am going to resume my studies indoors.”

The idea of Data quietly working on his scholastic work, alone and damaged, was upsetting. Geordi figured it probably upset him a lot more than it upset Data, but the matter stood. He shook his head. “You can. But, um, if you’re tired of sitting alone outside, you can always sit with me and my friends. You’re always welcome.”

“Your friends?”

“Yeah. Me, Talia, Lyra, Matt, and Jorge. They’re a good group. They won’t be mean to you. You’ve met Lyra in Basics of Warp Design?” It felt awkward to promise that, like it should be obvious, but Geordi was compelled to say it anyway. _Don’t worry! They’re not going to treat you like a toaster!_ “They might ask a few questions, but they won’t be disrespectful. Take it from a VISOR user, they’re not disrespectful.” _Don’t compare your seeing aid to Data’s entire deal!_

“Noted. Why are you asking me to join your friends?”

It seemed strange to say out loud, to cement it into existence, but Geordi figured that he couldn’t exactly use subtle implications on Data. He just had to say things outright. “Because you’re my friend, too.”

Data stopped in his tracks to consider the statement. “Friend,” he whispered, and Geordi would pay any amount of money to read his mental outputs right then. He could see his brain firing up more than normal. A beat passed, and then Data turned to face him. “I will join you. With your friends.”

***

  
  


To Geordi’s immense relief, it was going well. While he knew they wouldn’t be _disrespectful,_ there was something – something similar to disrespect – that existed, and it was called _too fucking curious._

They had walked out together, and it felt like all eyes on the courtyard had whipped around to watch them. Data hadn’t been perturbed. Trying to be like Data, Geordi just walked straight ahead with his friend at his side. He had sat down near the end of the bench, gestured for Data to join him, and that had been that.

Data was sitting next to him on the table. Their thighs were touching and Data was leaning close to him, for reasons Geordi couldn’t exactly fathom. Geordi had quietly explained why Data was missing a patch of skin on his face, and Matt had quietly restrained Talia from going and starting a brawl with Korlack and Kagrin. It took some effort, and Geordi had received an alarmed look from Data – _I just inspired violence in someone,_ _Geordi what is happening_ – before it went calm.

Lyra had gently touched Data’s cheek to examine his exposed circuitry and had asked a few polite questions about the composition of his skin. Data had answered them with surprising tenderness while Lyra’s fingers probed over his chin. Geordi had taken notes. He’d need it when he repaired Data later that night.

“So,” Jorge finally asked, putting a hand on his chin. “I have a question for you, Cadet Data.”

“Yes, Cadet …” Data’s eyes went blank for a moment. “Cadet Remiro.”

“Did he just search the Starfleet directory?” Matt asked Geordi, who chuckled in return. “Man of many talents.”

“So, do you know the rumors about you?”

“There are rumors about me?” Data asked, before shaking his head. “No. I was unaware.”

“Well, there’s a lot. But I’m curious – so, when Starfleet found you – “ He was interrupted by Geordi’s complaint of ‘ _Jorge!’._ Geordi knew _exactly_ where this was heading and he didn’t like it. “They said you were the only one on that colony. Everyone else was gone. Is that because, uh, you know?” Jorge made a knife-stabbing motion, over and over, to which Data looked at Geordi in confusion.

Geordi was leaning forward on the table, face in hands. “He’s asking whether you killed all the colonists. Which we know you didn’t. He’s just _stupid!”_ The word was fondly – if a little loudly – thrown in Jorge’s direction.

“Ah. No, I have never killed anyone, Cadet Remiro, nor the colonists. Starfleet is still uncertain as to what ended their lives, but their deaths were not consistent with my abilities.”

“Aw, man.”

“You are … disappointed?”

“Sort of. It would’ve been a real redemption arc for you, if you had. Joining up with Starfleet after mass-murdering an entire colony.” Jorge sighed, a little dreamily while he placed his head in his hand. He was quickly boffed on the head by neighboring Matt.

“I do not believe Starfleet would have accepted me into the premises if I was a confirmed mass murderer, Cadet Remiro. They deliberated for a very long time about whether to accept me, as it happens. They were uncertain of whether my android status barred me from entry, as I am not, legally, a person.”

“You basically are.” Geordi was interrupting, defensive of his friend. “Legally, maybe not, but in actuality? You basically are.”

“Thank you, Geordi. Cadet … “ Data uttered something in Orion that was so complex, Geordi couldn’t even attempt to spell it phonetically. Lots of vowels. _That really, really shouldn’t be attractive, but I’ve been told Orion is a seductive language, so maybe that’s just normal? Please, please let that just be a normal reaction to the Orion language._ “You also have a question?”

“Good pronunciation, Data. Cute. You can just call me Talia. I was going to ask why you joined Starfleet.”

Curious, Data tilted his head to the side. “Why did you?”

“Well, to help colonists. Orion have the reputation of being – well, everyone here knows the Orion reputation. But, we also have an official statute of neutrality. We don’t get the sort of help that Federation species get because we don’t take sides. It’s hard on colonies. And also kind of a bullshit policy, us not getting help. So I wanted to help them, however I can – Orion colonies or Bajoran –“ She spared a look towards her girlfriend. “Or any colony that needs it. You know?”

Data recorded this in his memory banks, before realizing that Talia still wanted an answer. “I have an overarching goal of becoming more human. Given my previous connections to Starfleet, it seemed only natural that I would pursue that goal while using my ability to assist those who saved my life.”

He wanted to become more _human._ Geordi felt his heart break again and again for the poor guy, and it was then that Geordi decided he was going to stick around Data as much as possible. If all Data wanted was to become more human, then god damn it, Geordi was going to help him do that. He’d be goddamn Jiminy Cricket if he had to.

“I think that’s really sweet, Data,” Lyra uttered softly. “And really noble, too.”

“Thank you. It is an appropriate goal.” Around them, various cadets had started to pack up their belongings and return into the building. The others at the table began to do so, as well. Data seemed to pause, internally checking the time, before gathering his bag. “Geordi. I will see you tonight?”

Matt looked at him sharply, and Geordi realized that he’d accidentally over-booked himself. And yet, there was no question – kind of a jerk move or not – where he would prefer to be that night. “Yeah, sure,” he promised, before turning back towards Matt. “So, Matt, about tonight …”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's another update for the week! Thanks all for reading!


	8. Just an Engineer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: None

“And then we were walking Data to class, and Jorge asked if we were Data’s bodyguards, and _Data_ said that he needed no physical protection, and Talia said she’d make a great bodyguard because nobody would suspect an Orion, and then Data actually recited this ancient Orion poetry about a famous warrior, and Mom, it was …” Geordi took a deep breath as he laid back on his bed, the communicator tightly pressed against his ear. “I don’t even know how to describe it. He’s incredible.”

He’d been on the phone with his mother for the better part of an hour, curled up on his bed. Data was due to arrive in ten minutes, but that was ten minutes more he had to talk about him. He’d listened to his mother’s status update early on in the call, but he was pretty sure that he’d been talking about Data for a straight half hour. He couldn’t bring himself to feel self-conscious about it – hell, he felt like his mom was the _only_ person he could gush to without feeling like he was boring her.

“Sounds like he might think _you’re_ incredible, Geordi. You did a very brave thing today, you know that,” his mother praised him quietly, for maybe the seventh time that hour. As for the preceding six times, Geordi grinned and wrinkled his nose. She couldn’t see him, but the movement was automatic.

“No. I mean, it wasn’t anything exceptional. They had acid, mom, what was I going to do? Just let them – no, that wasn’t an option. Data gets so much crap thrown at him. It’s unfair.” He let out a groan of complaint. “Sometimes it just feels – like, _bizarre._ You know? He’s just trying to do what everyone else is doing, he’s not hurting anyone, and somehow _that_ just keeps pissing these two guys off.”

“Even better, if you think doing the right thing was the only option.”

“ _Mom,”_ Geordi groaned, covering his face with his arm.

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop gushing. I _am_ proud, though, sweetie.” Something devious entered her voice. “It _does_ sound like you’re smitten with this android. I’ll have to keep Data in mind.”

His Mom always had this way about her. For obvious reasons, sometimes Geordi’s expressions were hard for people to read. So much emotion was expressed through the eyes. With most of the upper half of his face covered up by the VISOR, most people had no idea whether Geordi was upset, hurt, in pain, or even just bored. Geordi tried to compensate sometimes, but it didn’t always feel _natural._

His Mom always knew, though. She had a way of knowing his deep thoughts as soon as he walked into the room, and she was never shy about making sure he knew. Whether it was a symptom of birthing him or her status as a shrewd Starfleet captain, Geordi had no idea. Now, Geordi only groaned and hid his face in his pillow.

He didn’t want to talk about being smitten with the android – partly because he wasn’t sure that his mother would raise objections to being smitten with an android, partly because he didn’t know what to do with those feelings for the first time in his life. Sure, she wasn’t cruel towards Data and android life in general, but there was no telling ...

“I don’t care that he’s an android,” his mother stated, and Geordi groaned again into his pillow. _How did she know. How did she know!?_

“You’re like a Betazoid, please _stop.”_

“I think it’s sweet. I’ve read reports on him, Geordi. He has some work to do on being human, but he’s a living being. He’s a person, there’s no doubt about that. Everyone else will catch onto that.”

He curled up on his side, shifting his head so that he could stare at the ceiling. Somehow, the white stippled ceilings of his dormitory reminded him of the gray stippled ceilings of a Starfleet bunk. “I know he is. He’s a great person, too, he’s sweet, and he can be – Mom, I know he’s not trying, but he’s so _funny_ sometimes.” Geordi paused and sucked in a deep breath. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea to date him. I mean, I – I don’t know, but.”

“Why not?”

Somehow, talking about Data’s ‘sexual programming’ seemed both horribly invasive for Data and horribly embarrassing for him. Geordi sighed and felt for his words, half-chewing them. “I don’t know how much of his programming will let him date. You know. If he feels things that way. I don’t know. I’ll figure it out later, but it’s not – you know, I don’t want to – _use_ him because he’s nice.”

“You do have four years to figure it out, honey. He seems like a nice young man. He – “ There was a knock on his door. Geordi checked the time. 8:23 PM and not a second after. _Ugh._ He’d wanted a minute to make sure that his clothing was on straight (and didn’t look like he’d practically been rolling on his bed chatting into the phone for an hour), but he didn’t have that luxury.

“Mom, he’s here, I gotta go.”

An excited note came into her voice. “He’s here? What about putting him on the viewscreen so I can – “

“ _Mom!”_

His mother’s low chuckle sounded from the receiver. Geordi could practically feel her backing off. “Okay, okay. I’ll let you have fun on your little date.” _Not a date!_ Geordi’s mind screamed at him, and he had to suppress a complaining ‘ _mom stop!’_ “Love you. Both of us do.”

“Love you both too,” Geordi responded quickly, before he stabbed at the ‘end call’ function. He took a deep breath, pushed himself up, and walked to his door as slowly as he reasonably could. His hand hovered over the touchpad that would open it.

Right before he did, he had a moment of mortal dread. Data’s hearing had to be a lot more advanced than a normal human’s _,_ and it wasn’t like the dormitory doors were particularly thick. How much of it had Data overheard? That would be more than an embarrassing thing for Data to overhear, the thought made him want to crawl back under his bed.

If Data had to politely turn him down, Geordi was pretty sure he’d never leave his dorm again.

“Good evening, Geordi.” Data stood at the door. If he overheard, he made no immediate mention of it. Geordi stepped aside to allow him in. As always, Data wore his cadet uniform. He realized he’d never seen Data with so much as a hair out of place. The only difference in his appearance was the obvious – the yellowish coating that was his skin was still stripped away. It almost made Data look frightening, a sort of big Frankenstein’s monster. _So much for the assimilating into the crowd front. I should’ve gotten him to come over immediately, but – Data, missing classes? Never._

“Hey, Data. How did your classes go?”

“Adequately. I find that I often possess several dozen questions at the end of the day about human behavior. If I choose not to partake in an accurate simulation of sleep, I am usually able to answer them by morning, if I am thorough in my research.” Data sat on the edge of Geordi’s bed. Given Data’s misconception about being in Geordi’s bed earlier, Geordi felt a thrill that Data seemed more comfortable with it now.

The momentary nervousness swept away from him as he got caught up in Data and his understanding of humanity. “Yeah? Give me an example of a question.”

“When I was walking home, I witnessed a male cadet and a female cadet eating with one another. They were clearly engaged in some sort of argument. It was of a personal nature. To conclude the argument, the female cadet reached for her water and splashed it in the male’s face.” Data was quizzical. He tilted his head to the side a half-inch like he were questioning a professor in a lecture. “Why?”

Geordi snorted as he reached for his tools, popping open the box and going through them. Man, he really needed to organize this hunk of junk. “I can’t answer why drink-throwing specifically. It’s an old-fashioned thing. To startle them, I guess. Kind of melodramatic.”

“It does not seem very nice.”

“Considering someone tried to pour acid down your throat today, humans aren’t always very nice, no. Even people who date aren’t nice to each other sometimes.” Wow, he was starting to sound like an after school special these days. It was nice, though, it felt _good_ to talk about the world like it was that simple. Geordi picked the correct tool from the box and turned around. “Ready?”

At first, he thought that Data was going to offer to repair himself, again, like he had at the cadet party. But Geordi was stone-cold sober this time, and there was less hair to get in the way. Data simply nodded and Geordi knelt in front of him. Accordingly, Data hunched over to give Geordi better access to his face.

At least he was in front of the only guy in the world who _wouldn’t_ make a dirty joke about Geordi being on his knees in front of him. He couldn’t help but think if it was Matt – or even Talia – then Geordi wouldn’t be able to escape unscathed in that regard.

Geordi held up the polymer synthesizer and set to work. “Now stay very, very still, Data.” In front of him, Data quickly stopped his breathing – and, if Geordi could see his insides correctly, the pulsing rhythm of his mechanical circulatory system. Data was no more than cold machinery in front of him. “Okay. Maybe not that still.”

He started near the bottom of Data’s chin. Being so near the injury made him _angry_ again. He still remembered Kagrin’s overconfident smile, the way Korlack lingered behind like a holovid henchman. They’d been so confident that Data wasn’t a living being that they didn’t think twice about doing this to him. It was horrific.

When Geordi had requested a coffee a half hour ago, he had – without thinking – thanked the replicator. He hoped that wasn’t a sign he was turning into his father.

Slowly, Geordi started to spray the new polymer onto Data’s chin. It came out of the tip of a nozzle in a faint golden glow. He’d need to buff it out to make it even, later, so that Data wasn’t walking around with an uneven foundation. Geordi’s fingers wrapped around the back of Data’s head – half to keep him still (Data wasn’t moving a centimeter), half to act as a rest for his own hand. All the while, Geordi felt Data’s eyes on him, watching and not blinking. _That_ made Geordi feel self-conscious.

“That was good, what you said to Lyra. Earlier today,” Geordi spoke, filling in conversation. Each word was careful, slow, so as not to jostle his hand or disrupt his concentration. If he did this in total silence, he was going to go _nuts._ “About wanting to be human. About why you joined Starfleet.”

“It was the truth. I want to be human, above all, and Starfleet is majority human. I have also witnessed their regulations, behavior, and command style personally. I find that I agree with many of their principles.”

“Which is why you’re not in some lab somewhere, working to solve every major issue we run into. You want to be on a ship.”

“That is another reason. I did not want to be used solely for my computational abilities. I have many strengths. Starfleet allows me to put them into action in ways that do not directly involve my hardware.”

“Yeah, I can see that. It’ll be something to see you, when you finally get your posting, Data.” Geordi focused on the edges of the injury, where the polymer had cracked but not been melted away. He thought of Data, standing tall in a Starfleet uniform, inquisitive eyes soaking in data readings and captain orders. “An android on the bridge. _Wow.”_

They were _very_ close to one another, now. Geordi had to hover only a few inches away from Data’s face, and it didn’t help that Data was _staring_ or that his fingers were still grasping the back of Data’s skull. He tried to force himself not to think about it, but to no avail. Usually, he was pretty good at filling in the gaps at conversation, talking, but now his mind had slowed to a comparative halt. He could only quietly, silently repair Data’s chin. Geordi knew that his breath was puffing against Data’s skin, but only one of them could just “turn off” their breathing. He hoped it wasn’t distracting – or annoying – or, god forbid, _smelly._

“Geordi, I must tell you something so you do not operate on false assumptions. I decided to leave the Academy,” Data confessed, moving his lips as little as possible. “When Cadets Kagrin and Korlack informed me of their intention to harm me.”

 _Oh._ Geordi’s hand stilled on Data’s face. Oh. He could feel his heart start to spiral down, down, down into the depths of his stomach. Data … leaving the Academy. Data going on to do something else, Data not _seeing_ him again. Data being effectively bullied out – giving Kagrin and Korlack everything that they wanted in the first place.

More than that – Starfleet losing someone like _Data_ in their ranks. Not even the technical ability, but the sheer human – very _human –_ decency about him.

Geordi was so shocked that he could only stutter out a vague reply. “I mean, I get it. I’d be upset, too.”

“I do not become upset, Geordi. It was a rational decision, taking into account several hundred variables. My overall processing time was less than a few seconds, before the acid even corroded my external casing.”

Again, Geordi was thrown back to that incident. It was their first semester, his and Data’s, and already Data had been put through hell. He’d been physically damaged – harassed – excluded – mocked – nearly _killed_ by two cadets with heads up their asses. Geordi instinctively wanted to keep him there, of course, wanted to hide him in his dormitory and protect him and keep him safe and gush over his technical ability – but Geordi could not only think of himself and his silly _crush._

Even if the idea of Data leaving – of being _bullied out_ – made Geordi absolutely miserable, he had to admit that he understood. Data had been treated so badly, and Geordi knew he wouldn’t have made it half this far before dropping out, himself. If Data didn’t want to put up with everything that had been thrown at him, how could Geordi argue?

“What was your general reasoning?” Geordi asked in a low voice, continuing with his repairs. That was something to focus on. He felt hollow inside. “I mean, if it didn’t personally upset you.”

“I considered the officers who rescued me on the _USS Tripoli_ to be quite noble in nature. They cared for my well-being. Repaired me without question. They taught me, when they did not have to. They showed me what Starfleet stood for. They cared for the well-being of the galaxy and the pursuit of knowledge.” Data paused to consider, before concluding: “Starfleet will always remain an organization of kindness to me.”

“But?”

“But that was dissonant with the behavior I have seen from the cadets. They behaved with malice and selfishness. Therefore, I had to conclude that the problem was _me._ I had somehow changed them on their track. Corrupted them. I do not know why, but I cannot stay here. I would corrupt more cadets and, therefore, corrupt Starfleet as a whole. Why would it be logical for me to remain?”

Geordi jerked hard to the side. Data received a splattering of gold alloy across his cheek for his trouble. He wiped it away quickly before it had time to set.

After all this time, Data blamed himself for the cadets’ actions against him. Geordi had to pause again, staring at the shiny gold rag in his hand. He had repaired half of Data’s face in that moment, shiny new polymer clearly standing out from the rest of his skin.

“ _N-_ _n_ _o?_ No. _”_ Geordi told him emphatically, even if the voice came out as a stutter. It was all he could manage, in that moment, because what Data had said was so _wrong_ and _shocking_ that he couldn’t even think of a reason. Shouldn’t it just have been obvious? Shouldn’t Data see that he was not the problem there?

Data’s head whirred to the side mechanically. “You agree that I should not stay here?”

“ _No._ I mean, you’re wrong, Data.” Geordi paused to think about it. Why was it so hard to think when Data’s eyes were looking at him so intently? Just mechanical parts focusing in on him – then again, he guessed humans just had the same parts, just a little squishier. He had to put it into words. He had to _explain._ “I’m sure the officers on the _USS Tripoli_ were good guys, rescuing you. And there’s plenty of cadets here that are also really good people, you’ve met a lot of them. Talia and Matt and the rest. But don’t you think, out of the millions of people in Starfleet, thinking all of them are paragons of peace and virtue is a little unrealistic? That’s just not what people are. Humans or not.”

Data fell quiet. He had not considered this before, clearly. Internal variation in organic life-forms eluded him.

“I’m not saying that we have to be okay with that. We shouldn’t be. Shouldn’t accept people being bad as, like, as a fixed _error rate._ But bad people – people like Korlack, and Kagrin – they would seek out people who are vulnerable. Who stand out from the rest. It’s got nothing to do with you influencing them. Absolutely nothing, you didn’t do anything to – Jesus, Data. You didn’t make them _worse._ ”

Geordi’s wrist wavered a little. He had been holding up this tool for quite a while, now. A bit of the polymer hadn’t been wiped off on Data’s cheek, and Data’s hand shot up to hold Geordi’s wrist, to steady it. Geordi flushed with warmth and gathered himself together to remove it carefully.

“Sorry. From what I’ve seen of you?” Geordi continued, finishing up the last of Data’s patchwork. He went through the quick motions of smoothing it all together. “You’re the best Starfleet has to offer. I think you belong in Starfleet, maybe more than anyone else here. You’re the good example for everyone to follow, Data, and it would be a _lot_ worse without you in it.”

It wasn’t just a platitude, either. Geordi realized he meant it. Sure, maybe Data had an advantage being an android and all, but he was smart, and driven, and he had a reason for being there. A good reason, too, not honor or glory or power. Data just didn’t _make_ decisions from greed or lust or selfishness. Geordi never understood the older Admirals who complained that technology was going to ruin every species in the galaxy – as an engineer, he found that technology presented a fixed, objective standard they could hold themselves to. Machines only broke because of bad parts or faulty wiring or other fixable things – people broke for much more nebulous reasons.

Finally, he leaned away from Data’s face. The tool was placed back in its box and Geordi surveyed his handiwork. It was obvious that Data had undergone a recent repair – a shiny piece of polymer still stained his cheek. He could buff all that out easily enough, but Data was still … holding onto his wrist, just looking at him. Analyzing him.

Maybe he’d short-circuited him? That sort of thing happened in holovids with androids, but Geordi wasn’t sure how well that correlated to reality. He flicked through the filters on his VISOR and saw that Data’s systems were still running well internally, if a hair or two higher than his baseline.

Geordi’s breath caught in his throat while they stared at one another, just an inch or two away from one another. Data’s fingers were gentle around his wrist – feeling, Geordi was sure, his speeding pulse.

Despite his expertise in technology rather than people, he _was_ aware of ‘moments’. Moments just before he leaned in to kiss someone, or moments just before someone admitted that they liked him for a while, or moments where they just sat in silence and mutual understanding of their attraction. And this _felt_ like a moment. Data didn’t pull away, and he was staring, a little open-mouthed, into Geordi’s eyes. Could androids _sense_ moments?

But, even if he had sexual programming, even if he wanted to become more human, even if everything fell into place -romance seemed beyond Data’s purview. At least – nothing came of it.

“Oh,” Data whispered, voice soft. “I am sorry.” He let go of Geordi’s wrist. A beat passed before Geordi took his hand back, setting the tool back in his box. His blood roared in his ears; his face burned. With just four words, Geordi felt like he’d just gotten rejected. Not that it mattered, anyway – Data was leaving Starfleet Academy. Maybe it was for the best.

“Don’t sweat it.”

“I do not.” He reached up to touch against his cheek. Geordi organized the tools in his box before shutting the old metal contraption with a _click!_ “I will stay in Starfleet.”

That broke through Geordi’s confusion. He turned back towards Data with a wide grin on his face. Even if his little crush was unrequited on Data, then – well, Data sticking with Starfleet was better for the galaxy at large. Even if it may not have been better, safety-wise, for Data.

“Yeah? You will?” He stepped closer and put his hands on his hips, staring down at Data on the bed. Data still seemed more pensive than usual. “Glad to hear it. What changed your mind?”

“You.” Data was simple and unapologetic.

The bluntness of it made Geordi laugh – and Jesus, was there ever a better reason to laugh? Data was staying _enrolled._ He joked, “That quick, huh? Mom always wanted me to go into diplomacy.”

“You remind me of the officers on the _USS Tripoli,”_ Data elaborated. Geordi watched him resume breathing and blinking. “And I valued them very highly. They are, and remain, Starfleet to me. You are also Starfleet to me. Friendship in the face of the unknown. That is Starfleet.”

Data’s words – sheer and sincere and so damn _open_ \- meant more than Geordi thought it would mean to him. Sure, his mother could tell him that he’d done a very brave thing, but Geordi had only told her his version of events. Data understood what had happened. And to have someone that you thought was a good person in their own right – as Data was, to Geordi – praise you for being the very same? It meant the world.

Geordi had to look down towards the floor, fighting the sudden pricking of tears in the corners of his eyes. _Jesus,_ he was going soft already. In his defense - people didn’t talk like Data did – weren’t so frank and earnest with what they were thinking, as Data did, and Geordi didn’t doubt that he meant every word of what he said.

“Aw, Data.” Instinctively, Geordi wanted to argue against him. He just didn’t know how to describe to him that he was just behaving at the _minimum._ What options did Geordi have, anyway, when confronted with Kagrin and Korlack and a vial of acid? Sometimes it seemed like the only two options in situations were playing the hero or being a monster, and he didn’t know if _not_ wanting to be a monster made him a good guy. He wasn’t any particular sort of hero. He was just … “I’m just an engineer. Well, in training. If I were on the USS _Tripoli,_ I wouldn’t have had any say in retrieving you. Fixing you would’ve just been part of my job. And – back there, with Kagrin and Korlack, that was _nothing._ That was minimum decency.”

“I am not explaining this correctly.” Data frowned. “I will think of how to explain it to you better and inform you at a later time.”

“Good. I’ll take that, Data.” Any more earnestness and Geordi was liable to start crying in earnest, and _that_ would kill him. “Now, want me to buff that out for you? You’re looking a little splotchy.” Geordi suddenly had a _vivid_ flashback of helping his sister with makeup back in the day. He’d been pretty decent at it, actually. He’d have to tell her about this – about Data, in general. He was never as good about calling her as he should’ve been. She’d laugh at him for getting into so much trouble in his first year.

Data shook his head. “No need.” Geordi watched as Data raised the back of his palm to his chin and, far faster than Geordi could track, started to sand down the rough polymer himself. His arm was just a blur in Geordi’s VISOR. However, when he pulled his arm away, it was as if Data had never been damaged at all. Data was his own personal buffing device.

And suddenly, the thought that looped through his mind all the time (low level, almost like white noise) when he was around Data verbally came out of him. “ _God,_ you’re so _fucking cool.”_

Data blinked, surprised. “Cool?”

“Yeah. Everything you can do, all of your processes. It’s just really cool.” It felt a little weird, and even a little offensive, to explain. Data didn’t seem to be disconcerted by it. Instead, he just blinked a couple of times at Geordi, considering, and Geordi wondered if he’d accidentally crossed a wire with him. It was probably annoying to hear some random engineer – even if it was your friend – say how cool your bodily functions were all the time, wasn’t it?

Somewhere in his bag, Geordi’s PADD pinged.

“I see. Thank you. I have just copied over all of the files concerning my schematics, circuitry, and up-to-date subroutines into your PADD.”

It was Geordi’s turn to blink in surprise. “You did _what?”_ Rummaging around for his PADD, he brought it up to his face. The file that Data had just sent to him could fill several textbooks – strike that, several encyclopedias. Maybe an entire library. Every single line of code was flashing before him, everything that made Data – _Data._ Geordi could even see the mission files from the _USS Tripoli,_ where they had retrieved him. “Data, that’s …”

“Should I not have? You have often expressed interest in my programming and how I function. You are able to see for yourself.”

He looked up and saw Data’s face, questioning and filled with self-doubt. This, albeit it being a really _weird_ show of trust, was nonetheless the most trust that anyone had ever shown him. Geordi took a deep breath and smiled at him, wishing that he had anything halfway comparable to give Data. “No. It’s great, Data, I really appreciate it. I don’t think I’ll be able to get through even one percent of it, _if_ I even understand it, but I’m … it means a lot. Thanks.”

“You are welcome. You are my friend.” Data stood from his position and brushed off his cadet uniform. Gold specks rained down to the floor of Geordi’s dormitory. “I apologize, but I must return to my dormitory. It is late, and I have work to prepare for my classes tomorrow.”

For work. Right. Geordi let himself be disappointed for a second, resisted the urge to whine _you can stay if you want,_ and only nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. Um, do you need to be walked back?” A prick of hope hit him then. “And, obviously, if there’s uh – a sock on your roommate’s door, you can come back here.”

“No, I am capable of doing so on my own. Thank you very much for the offer.” Okay. Another little needle of disappointment shot through him as Data walked through the door. It was easy to think something of Data leaving so abruptly – that Data was upset, or that Geordi had done something wrong – but Geordi forced himself to shove it down. Data didn’t _operate_ like that. Data didn’t feel upset, clearly, and he wouldn’t be able to hide it that well if he did.

And yet. Geordi really, really, really didn’t want Data to go.

W _hat’s wrong with you,_ Geordi complained with himself. But, thinking on it, of course he already knew the answer. It seemed to be the answer for every question regarding Data these days, it thrummed just beneath his skin at every available moment: _You’ve got it bad._

“Wait,” he stuttered, standing up from his position. Data turned to regard him from the door, the light from the hallway casting him in silhouette. “You … tomorrow. You should sit with us again. Everyone likes you, and we’ll make sure Kagrin and Korlack don’t give you any trouble. Make a habit of it, obviously, this wasn’t just a one-time thing.”

Data’s response was immediate – a short, swift jerking nod, followed by a “Thank you, Geordi.”

When the door slid shut behind his friend, Geordi only collapsed back onto his bed with a groan. He covered his VISOR with his arms and groaned again, a little louder, encroaching on a frustrated yell. Data staying in the Academy was amazing news, for everyone involved, but Geordi couldn’t help but think that romantic feelings were a terrible, terrible idea. In some ways: Data was so lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, an update that doesn't involve placing Data in mortal danger! Just a one-chapter update for today, this one was a little longer than the previous. Geordi's got a cruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuush. Thanks all for reading - happy new year to all! See you next Saturday.


	9. Warp Core Breach

“It’s not all about scientific know-how, Data,” Geordi teased as they stood in one of the many engineering laboratories. A replicate of a warp drive core was glowing behind them while they leaned over a control panel. Well, _he_ leaned over a control panel; he didn’t think Data had leaned over anything in his life.

Everything here was an almost perfectly functioning version of an actual starship engine room – except for, obviously, generating the final warp field. An engineering lab that could make that was just _begging_ for disaster. Not even just an engineering lab zipping through space – more like total destruction disaster. “Pilot shuttling work requires a lot of _gut instinct._ You know? Short reaction times. _”_

Even if this place was only a replica, it was Geordi’s happy place. An engine room was clean, and contained, and – while loud – everything problem that came up could be solved within an engine room. And, although he’d never admit it to _anybody,_ being in an engine room always made him feel like dancing.

There were a dozen other students in the same laboratory space. Everyone had a different task, but even so, it seemed as if everyone was scuttling around doing nothing. Some students were hovering near the warp core itself, others were at different terminals, some were taking notes on PADDs. Most looked unbelievably nervous. Korlack, Geordi knew, was probably dicking around somewhere in the upper halls of the laboratory.

 _Okay,_ maybe that wasn’t fair. Korlack was a good student, generally capable and knew what was going on. In a _I’ve-never-been-on-a-Starfleet-starship_ sort of way. Geordi just couldn’t stand the guy. If he had his way, Korlack would be facing some sort of trial for attempted murder. But Data’s opinion on the matter hadn’t changed since it had happened (27 days ago). In fact, they hadn’t talked about it at all and Geordi had more-or-less decided that it was out of his hands. Not his call.

Like an actual engine room, it was loud, too. Somehow, though, Geordi always forgot that other people were in the room when he was with Data. He was doing his work, sure, but that left plenty of time for banter with someone he’d been spending a _lot_ of time with for the past few weeks.

Uncertain, Data pressed a hand to his stomach. “Gut instinct?”

“Yeah. Like …” He’d learned a _lot_ about how to put human concepts into words for the past few weeks. He still sounded like a total jackass when he explained it, but he _could_ explain it. “Like, you reach this conclusion about what you have to do, but you can’t explain it. You have no logical reasoning behind it. You just _know.”_

Data’s lips pursed into a frown, looking at Geordi as he leaned over the terminal. “And you believe this gut instinct would render you a more suitable shuttle pilot for the assignment?” Data had managed to complete all of his tasks in the last five minutes, mostly without moving a muscle. Geordi was petty sure that hooking up his brainpower to the actual hardware in the lab was cheating.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Sure, maybe he also really, really wanted to pilot a shuttle. He’d piloted one a few years ago … for about five minutes, and that was mostly his dad giving him the controls during a quick flyby.

It was still _amazing._

This training exercise that was coming up in a few weeks wasn’t, on paper, anything spectacular. A quick flight up to a waiting starship just outside of Earth’s orbit. It probably wouldn’t take more than a few hours, and was mostly so that they got experience with atmospheric changes. And, of course, _because it was really fucking cool_ and exactly the sort of thing that excited Starfleet cadets.

Still, on a shuttle with Data (and a half-dozen other cadets, but who cared), in the stars, where he hadn’t been for _months?_ Sounded like a dream. Geordi couldn’t help but get homesick for space.

“Occasionally, I make calculations so quickly that it would take more time for me to analyze how I computed them than to compute them. Is that similar?”

“Sort of, yeah. Closest non-human equivalent.” Data nodded in understanding. Geordi shifted his bag to the floor. His PADD was in there, peeking out over the opening. He’d been looking over Data’s schematics, staying well clear of anything that seemed too personal - and he didn’t understand most of it, anyway. Of course Geordi felt like he was a smart guy, but Data had either been built by God or a lunatic.

“It doesn’t matter. My bet is that Kagrin is gonna bully his way into piloting it, anyway.”

The mission, for the sake of authenticity, also had one Command track cadet coming along. Geordi could’ve screamed in frustration when he found out that their Command track cadet was none other than Kagrin Tizer. It wasn’t _tradition_ for Command track cadets to pilot the shuttle, exactly, but because Command track cadets had their heads up their asses at all times (sorry Talia), they naturally gravitated towards the more glamorous positions.

“Oh? But he is not Engineering.”

“Yeah, but he’s on the shuttle team. He’s got experience and he’s got a big mouth.” In confusion, Data placed his fingers over his own mouth. The sight made Geordi chuckle, and frankly, it was so endearing that Geordi didn’t immediately think to clarify it for him. “He’ll probably be the pilot.”

There hadn’t been any incidents with Kagrin _or_ Korlack in the past few weeks, for which Geordi had been grateful. They stuck to their own group and cast glaring glances at Data every now and then in classes, but that was all. And Geordi could live with that. Data wasn’t being targeted. In fact, Data seemed happy (or, as he would put it, _able to operate without_ _unnecessary barriers_ _),_ sitting at lunch with him and his friends and even going out with them a few times. It wasn’t accurate to say that Data was like any other cadet, but Jesus, nobody had tried to mangle him recently.

Hearing the sound of a respirator, Geordi looked up to see a pair of beady eyes glaring down at him from the catwalk. They locked eyes with one another, and then Korlack quickly scampered away. He could hear his light footfalls against the metal, disappearing into the darkness. _Bleugh. Gives me the creeps. Probably eavesdropping._

“Primary ionization chambers have returned to normal,” Data reported from the terminal, to which Geordi nodded. _You look good standing at a work station, Data,_ Geordi said in his _inward_ voice, because he’d said a few suspect things in his _outward_ voice before, and he didn’t want Data to think he was coming on to him. Again.

He’d done a pretty good job rejecting and denying the crush, actually. He’d even gone on a date with Matt. Granted, it’d gone so awkwardly that they mutually agreed never to even think about it again. Geordi, for his part, tried not to think if it would have gone better if he didn’t have latent feelings for someone else.

And – well, he had been sort of distracted during the date. His dad had sent him a picture of a ruptured warp core that’d been struck by a meteorite, and Geordi had been so fascinated by the internal damage by it (and the energy fluctuations he could read through the VISOR) that he’d barely been able to talk about anything else. Matt had tried – bless him, he had tried – but couldn’t summon up the same enthusiasm as Geordi went on about the electromagnetism in trace elements of geospace phenomena.

Yes, maybe under different circumstances, it probably would have gone better. They at _least_ would’ve gotten to the awkward sex stage before calling it off, Geordi was sure. Then again, this way, they had practically reverted back to their previous friendship with no hesitation or frustration.

Geordi continued leaning over the terminal, making a few corrections here and there. He was in his element. Every meter made sense to him, every reading and every button on the panel. This, Geordi was confident, was where he was meant to be. He could be in an engine room for the next fifty years and be satisfied.

The best engineer in Starfleet. He was gonna make it someday.

Data didn’t look up from his terminal, echoing Geordi’s feelings. “You appear very natural in this environment, Geordi.”

Geordi cracked a smile, which he quickly had to suppress. _No, that_ _would be a come-on only if it came from you,_ he insisted at himself. _Coming from Data, that’s just his honest opinion._ _Which makes it worth all that much more. Damn it._ He shook his head. “Thanks, Data. I appreciate it. Let’s hope it’s not a false start.”

The lights lowered around them for a moment, casting them in darkness, and Geordi looked up in surprise. “Power surge?” The weather was beautiful outside (he actually had plans to walk around the grounds with Data later), so it wasn’t like they’d been hit by some sort of storm. Besides, Starfleet Academy had some of the best backups around.

That was when things started to go downhill.

All around them, the emergency lights started to flash. Every light and terminal in the lab started to flash bright red, with the words **EVACUATE** displayed on every screen. Geordi’s eyebrows furrowed together while the evacuation warning started to sound.

“ _Evacuation in effect. Vacate the laboratory. Evacuation in effect. Vacate the laboratory.”_

Each sentence was punctuated with a loud klaxon alarm. All around them, students dashed for the emergency exit. He heard Korlack on the catwalk above, ostensibly searching for the exit as well between all the chaos. _What was going on?_ It couldn’t be a fire, certainly it couldn’t.

“Geordi,” Data intoned gravely beside him. He had made no move towards the emergency exits. “There are energy fluctuations within the warp drive core replica.”

“ _Energy fluctuations?”_ Geordi gasped. “That thing isn’t supposed to produce power. If it starts generating a warp field, it’ll take out half the laboratories here.” And that was generous. There hadn’t been much research done on subspace bubbles being generated on a planet with an atmosphere, because it struck anyone with a basic understanding of warp theory as _a very, very stupid thing to do._ _Best_ case scenario was a chunk of the planet being destroyed. Worst case scenario was the entire planet zipping through the galaxy at warp speed, destroying anything in its path.

Warp theory had gotten them to visit other planets, other civilizations, other _life –_ but it was certainly not child’s play.

Data did not comment on Geordi’s reading, instead tracking the energy meter with his finger. “Still fluctuating, but nevertheless steadily rising.”

The containment field on the warp core wasn’t meant for it to actually _produce_ energy. There was a special part in place that prevented it; it couldn’t easily be removed. Hell, it wasn’t meant to be removed at all. He looked behind him at the warp core – and yes, he could see now that that matter-antimatter reactions were taking place up above. A rumbling hum sounded below the high-pitched alarms.

Geordi had no idea how something like that had happened – to do so, something would have had to disrupt the matter/antimatter separator. It was a specially designed piece of equipment used for training purposes, to give the engineers the best idea of how a warp core functioned – without actually _making_ it function.

Geordi reached forward for a tool from one of the utility bags around the lab. There was no question about it. Everyone in Starfleet Academy was in danger – _damn it,_ it could very well be everyone on Earth if he didn’t get this damn thing _fixed._ He just had to get that separator back into place and keep the matter and antimatter from coming into contact. In theory, it was a small issue for an engineer to do.

He just had to get there in time – and everyone else was leaving the laboratory.

Data’s hand covered his own. His fingers gently surrounded the tool in Geordi’s hand and tried to pull it out. “No,” he remarked quietly. “You should evacuate.”

Like _hell_ he would. Sure, they might get an _actual_ engineer in there, but who knew how long that would take? Who knew how much time they even had left?

“Two minutes. _You_ evacuate.” He grasped the tool in his hand harder and yanked it away from Data, turning towards the problem head-on.

It was easy to see the warp core as a small object within the grand scheme of the starship. They were large engines, sure, but these were comparatively much smaller than the turbine engines in the olden days. A lot of research had gone into making them relatively compact. Able to fit within the engine room, anyway.

Unfortunately, there was only so much that could be done to make them compact. The current style was to make them narrow – but ultimately very _tall._ And, of course, the matter-antimatter reactions were taking place right at the top of the tower. If he got where he needed to go, and he fell … it would be a long, long way down.

But, on the other hand, if he thought too much about it, then they were definitely going to be overwhelmed by a warp core breach. Too much power generated – nowhere to go. Something would have to crack.

Geordi unsteadily put one boot on the edge of the railing, and then other. He reached for the ladder on the side of the warp core ( _please don’t let this be an aesthetic-purpose-only ladder_ ) and started to pull himself up, driver grasped in one hand. The warp drive core was humming loudly, the vibration severe enough to have Geordi’s body trembling against the side of the core tower.

He had to fix this. This was his problem to fix. People were going to die if Geordi didn’t do anything. This was his only option.

If he wasn’t convinced by Data’s interpretation of the power fluctuations, looking into the warp core gave Geordi his answer. _Baby’s gonna blow._ Above him, he saw two white-blue bursts of energy interact, spinning around one another wildly, colliding off one another, growing _brighter,_ bigger.

The vibrating grew worse, to the point where Geordi started to viscerally imagine him reaching up, up for the next rung and being thrown off the entire ladder like a ragdoll. He could hear the ladder clanking against the side of the tower with every step he took. _This was a bad idea!_ Geordi’s mind threw at him. _Why did you do this!_

He couldn’t climb any higher. It wasn’t fear, or doubt, but he physically could not pull himself up another inch with the ladder shaking as it was. His hand met empty air when he tried to blindly grope upward, unable to get a grip. Geordi took a deep breath and clung onto it, trying to will it to stop shaking, just _one second_ –

It stopped.

Making a noise of confusion, Geordi looked around him – and then down.

Data was standing at the edge of the railing, reaching over and holding the bottom of the ladder with both hands. Geordi didn’t have the time or energy to calculate how much force he was exerting to keep the ladder still, but he was looking at Geordi with firm intensity. And for a second, nothing else was happening in the room but Data looking at him with rapt attention.

“Geordi, I calculate that a warp core breach is imminent in ninety seconds. You must hurry.”

Hurry. Right. Geordi nodded in his direction and started to pull himself upward. Now, he only had the alarm lights and sound to worry about, but he found that he could pull himself up easily. He reached the top and found the panel that contained the controls for the matter/antimatter separator. He stuck his driver into the panel and pried it open with a _creaaaaaaaaak_ of disuse.

Most of the inside of the panel was covered with dust. That was understandable – this was just an educational laboratory, this thing hadn’t required maintenance in years. All the separator was was a thick block of lead that never needed to be moved, unless maintenance had to be done on the matter/antimatter sections. Basically: two very dangerous things, separated by a very strong boundary, and everything was kept safe and unbreached.

 _Most_ of the inside was covered with dust.

Everything except the boundary control switch. Someone had turned it to allow the matter and antimatter portions of the core to _touch._ There was no way it could’ve been done on its own, because when Geordi reached forward to turn the switch back, it was almost impossible to turn. Having never been used, the connector was thick with rust and _grinded_ back to its original position. Geordi’s blood roared in his ears, wondering just how painful a death would be if he stood six inches from a warp core breach.

Eventually, he managed it – with a _click,_ the separator grinded back into place. The matter and antimatter sections of the core were separated once more. Geordi leaned back from the ladder to stare into it.

The energy stopped increasing exponentially, and the hum of the core started to quiet until it became inaudible. Relief flooded him _hard_ ; he could almost taste blood in his mouth. He shut his eyes and rested his forehead on the top rung of the latter. He just needed a breather before he could even _begin_ to mentally process what had happened.

“There is still some energy – “

Geordi heard Data and raised his head, planning to look down at him to listen. He didn’t quite make it that far. Data was correct in his assertion.

The contact had already created some energy within the warp core, and there was nowhere for that energy to go. It wasn’t quite enough to rip apart the entire laboratory (or, indeed, probably the greater part of San Francisco), but it was enough to find a way out _somewhere._ A whistling teakettle – rather than a bomb.

Just as Geordi raised his head to look down at Data, the outer hull of the warp core split open from the internal pressure. The energy escaped it in the form of burning steam, spitting directly against Geordi’s VISOR.

The pain was unbelievable. Worse than anything he’d ever felt in his life. At first, Geordi didn’t even felt it, just _heat heat heat heat – pain._

Geordi screamed, losing all sensible thought in that moment. He instinctually jerked backward from the ladder, losing his grip – and Geordi started to fall.

It felt like a long way down, but Geordi was a little too distracted by the burning agony (the _metal,_ it had melted some of the _metal)_ to notice, or think about what it would feel like to hit the metal grating far below him. And -

Remarkably soft, actually.

He hit Data straight on, and the android didn’t even stumble when he caught him. Data held him in his arms carefully, but beyond that, Geordi couldn’t understand what was going on. Geordi had lost VISOR control as soon as the steam had hit his face. It was one thing to take the VISOR off at night to sleep, or when he needed a breather, but to be cast into darkness so quickly and against his will was something else.

His fingers curled against the uniform on Data’s chest, pained whimpers leaving him shamelessly. He’d gone stiff from it, his spine arching in agony. _It hurts nothing’s ever hurt this much more it’s burning it’s burning –_

He was being placed on the floor in a sitting position, legs spread somewhat apart so Data could kneel between them. Geordi’s breath was leaving him in short, pained gasps; the word _hyperventilation_ never hit his mind but his lungs were going to burst. Then there were hands – cold, smooth, but any touch at all made Geordi cry out in pain again. “Don’t – “

But the hands were there nonetheless, and Geordi couldn’t squirm away from them. His chest heaved with every breath, and he imagined his heart popping like a balloon. He brought his hands up to Data’s arms and tried to push them away, but the android couldn’t be dissuaded. “Data – Data –” He hissed out, eyes filled with tears.

Data’s hands were at the connectors of his VISOR. He was detaching it. Geordi could understand that much, even if the pain made it borderline impossible to have a sensible thought. He didn’t want to know what the front of it looked like. He didn’t want to know what _he_ looked like. The pain radiating from his temples and eye sockets felt like it was shooting straight into his skull.

“I need to replicate a medical tool.” Data’s voice was firm and unworried. Geordi’s hands moved from his hands to his shirt, clutching at it hard. “I will be back.” Data wasn’t telepathic, but Geordi was sure he could feel the way his fingers tightened against his shirt in panic. He didn’t know how he was going to get out of here alone. If he was just blind, that would be no problem, given time and patience – but the pain around his face prevented him from even standing, much less anything else.

Suddenly, Data was no longer kneeling in front of him.

Geordi was alone.

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. He was going to pass out from the pain, right here, he just couldn’t get his lungs to _inflate,_ why couldn’t he just _breathe._ He was going to pass out, and maybe just die from the shock right there, hell, he didn’t even _care,_ whatever got the pain on his face and eyes to _stop stop stop_ –

Data was kneeling between his legs again. A hand pressed underneath his chin, pushing his head up. He choked out a pained gasp. Geordi responded by reaching for Data’s shirt again, balling his fist up in it as he kept him close. There was the _whirr_ of a dermal regenerator being turned on, and then – “No, he is in pain.” Data was talking to himself. The dermal regenerator was placed on the floor, before Geordi felt a hypospray at his neck.

Geordi’s chest heaved upward at the sensation (not _pain,_ really, it was hard to call the sensation of a hypospray pain) of it, before he collapsed backwards. He started to slump against the wall. “Geordi.” Data’s hands were on him again, pulling him upright.

The pain was starting to leave his body. The hideous burning sensation started to abate, but that didn’t calm Geordi down. He was still having trouble breathing, every gasp leaving him in a wheeze. Data had picked up the dermal regenerator again.

Everything above his nose had gone completely and entirely numb. The sensation was strange; it almost felt like his brain was suffering through the same delays. He could still feel the light pressure of the regenerator moving around his skin. Data was starting at his temples and moving over, slowly. All the while, Data kept his hand on Geordi’s face to keep him still. It was as secure as a vice with none of the tightness.

Geordi knew that he wasn’t exactly being a model patient. Sweat was pouring off of him in buckets, and him desperately trying to get air in him wasn’t helping him keep still. His breathing had turned thin, coughing with every breath.

“See. Tell me five things you can see,” Data commanded suddenly in a loud voice.

“What – what – “ Geordi hissed out as the regenerator moved across his eyes. _What what what are you talking about._ “I’m _blind!”_

“Yes. You are. Tell me four things you can touch.”

In the back of his mind, Geordi thought he understood what Data was doing. It didn’t stop him from making an effort. After all, with the pain gone, it was Geordi’s own brain that kept him panicking. He swallowed once and focused. His thumb brushed over the fabric of Data’s shirt. “Your – y-your uniform,” Geordi shuddered. He wasn’t sure it wasn’t audible; it was breath with no voice. He tried again, louder. “The. The metal floor.” Under his legs, cold and almost pleasant. _That_ had a little voice to it, even if it was too soft. Geordi sucked in some air.

“Good. Two more, Geordi.”

His hand went up, up, travelling along Data’s uniform. Eventually, his fingers felt something smoother, more yielding. _Hair._ “Your wrist. Skin.” His other hand travelled along the metal floor before he found something else. Metal, twisted and warped and partially melted under his fingers. Geordi’s analytic attention was taken with that, before he realized what it was. His lips trembled. “My V-VISOR.”

Data’s free hand took Geordi’s away from the VISOR, instead pressing it against Data’s own shoulder. Geordi’s other hand stayed gripping Data’s uniform shirt. “Yes, that is your VISOR. Three sounds you can hear.”

“Your voice.” That was an obvious answer; Data was speaking only some inches from his face in clear, urgent tones. It cut through everything else in the world. The dermal regenerator crossed over his nose, and Geordi had to fight back the urge to sneeze. His breathing had stopped catching in his throat, and he no longer had to raise his shoulders up to take gasps. “The – the alarm. The evacuation alarm. And. And the hum of the regenerator.”

“You are doing well. Two things you can smell.”

Without thinking of it, Geordi pulled in a deep breath through his nose easily. One was the smell of burnt flesh or the plasticky scent of regenerated skin, but Geordi didn’t think he could get that out without starting to panic again. He couldn’t think of it in relation to his body. He couldn’t. “Burnt metal.” That was the safer answer, even if Geordi couldn’t bear to think of his VISOR broken in such a way. And the other answer was something he’d be mortified to bring up normally, but Geordi sniffed hard and it overwhelmed his senses. He was too exhausted to care about anything else. “You. The cologne you put on. It’s. It’s you.”

He was starting to breathe in a more regular rhythm now. No pain. Everything was safe. Data was taking care of him. It was okay. Geordi felt like he could’ve slept for a week. This wasn’t so much about focusing on his surroundings, Geordi realized – it was keeping his mind occupied when Data was literally regenerating a portion of his skin.

“Yes. And finally, one thing you can taste.”

Geordi had to focus – but when it came to him, he made a face. “Blood.” He’d bit through his cheek at some point during that ordeal; he could feel the cut on the inside of his mouth. The regenerator was on his opposite temple, now, and after a pause, Geordi heard it click off as Data finished. He heaved a sigh and immediately slumped forward against Data’s chest. The fabric rubbed against his eyes, everything still felt numb. Good.

They sat like that for some minutes, Geordi feeling the rest of the tension ease out from his body.

It wasn’t a hug so much when Geordi’s hands were awkwardly fisted against Data’s shirt, but it provided him the comfort that he so desperately needed in this situation. Data didn’t return the embrace, but did allow Geordi to lean on him as the realization of what had happened had set in.

 _What is wrong with you these days,_ Geordi complained at himself. _Running into danger like you’re some Command track hotshot. You could’ve died._

As it was, he was screwed anyway. The VISOR had partially _melted._ That wouldn’t be easy to fix; nobody in the Academy specialized in that sort of thing. If he was lucky, the replicator had a bare bones version of the VISOR programmed in it. At least so he could see _something,_ even if it was just black and white. Shades of purple. Shadows. He didn’t care.

He heard the slide of metal skittering across the floor. Data had picked up what remained of the VISOR. He passed it between his hands, and Geordi sighed in disappointment. Best to get it out of the way now.

“What’s the damage?” He asked in a croak, pushing himself away from Data’s body.

Data didn’t answer, which is how Geordi knew it was bad. Usually, he would get angry. The VISOR was important to him, damn it, probably the most valuable possession he had. Now, he was only tired. He wanted to sleep and forget that this had ever happened. Maybe when he woke up, the entire day would be a bad dream.

“I will be able to fix it.” Data finally concluded. “It will take some time, but the rest of the laboratory will be cancelled due to the warp core breach. I will have time to find an empty workshop and conduct repairs on it. I have accessed the published schematics for this device.”

“My VISOR?” Even after so long of knowing Data, Geordi was nevertheless surprised that he knew _how_ to do it. Just like that. More to the point, Data didn’t _have_ to do it – but he was hardly going to tell him that, not when Geordi relied on it as much as he did. “I’d appreciate it if you could. Or at least grab another from the engineering labs, something primitive.”

Data rose to his feet. “No. I am able to fix it in its entirety, as I did your face. Would you like to join me?”

Not for the first time, Geordi was grateful that Data was not an incredibly emotional person. Data wasted no time mothering over him, wasted no time pitying or expressing his sympathy. It was action, and that was what Geordi needed now. He needed someone else to pilot for a minute.

“Yeah. Yeah, I would,” he remarked. His chest hurt from the hyperventilation, but he could breathe. “Don’t blame me if I pass out, though.” The adrenaline had worn off, leaving him with a dull headache. He really did just want to sleep.

Fingers brushed over his hand. Geordi let Data help him up to a standing position, but then he realized Data wasn’t letting go. Data was just holding his hand tightly, polymer fingers curled around his own.

While it felt _nice …_

“Data, what are you doing?” Geordi asked.

“I am going to guide you to appropriate laboratory.”

Incredible crush on Data notwithstanding, Geordi instinctively yanked his hand back from Data’s grasp. He couldn’t see Data’s reaction to it, but Data’s temporary pause in his breathing was questioning enough. “I can hear your footsteps and follow you. Just tell me if I’m going to bump into something.”

Data didn’t respond, but Geordi did hear him take a step towards the door. He was putting more weight on his footfalls than normal. A sweet gesture, if not all that needed. Geordi felt around until he grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder. He followed along behind Data; his fingers occasionally brushed against the wall while he walked.

The halls were empty and the alarms faded into the background while they walked further from the lab. The evacuation probably sent everyone outside. He wondered if they would do a headcount when they were out there, or just assume that all cadets were intelligent enough to actually _listen_ to an evacuation warning.

 _Bold assumption,_ Geordi thought, tenderly feeling around his newly regenerated skin. It was slightly squishier than natural skin, but it would thicken up in time until it was practically unnoticeable. “Hey Data,” he remarked tiredly. “Could you send a message to the instructor and let him know that we evacuated? In case they’re wondering where we are.”

A beat passed before Data responded. “Done. It is likely that the instructors will spend the rest of the day trying to determine what happened. Geordi, please stop touching your face.”

“What _happened_ is that someone intentionally tried to sabotage the warp core.” The implication to that was deeply disturbing, but not something Geordi could wrap his head around right now. _They’ll notice the same thing I did,_ Geordi thought blearily, _and the Engineering instructors will take care of it._ He’d done his part to keep the Engineering laboratories from exploding – that is, if anyone ever knew he even did it.

Geordi wasn’t a glory-seeker, but it’d be nice if _someone_ knew that he’d almost gotten his face melted off. Maybe it was just enough that Data knew.

Either way, the Engineering instructors would find out who did it and prosecute them appropriately. Geordi had no idea why someone would do such a thing, but he found comfort knowing that it was well above his pay grade. Not his problem to deal with. Even at eighteen, he found himself thinking _the adults will handle it now._

Together (and somewhat slower than normal), they managed to find an empty Engineering workshop. Geordi scouted out a bench to sit on and leaned towards the wall to sort out his thoughts. In front of him, he heard the buzz of tools and the occasional sizzle of metal.

He knew this might hit him – actually _hit him_ – later. Right now, he was tired and barely awake, leaning against the wall. He dimly hoped that he wouldn’t get in trouble for not evacuating with the rest of the cadets, but mostly, Geordi couldn’t get himself to think of all that many things. In fact, he was in danger of falling asleep against the table.

Reaching for his bag, Geordi rummaged around for the coat he kept. It was usually his constant companion, with how cold it was outside. He found it and formed a makeshift pillow on the table, but he noticed something missing from his bag. Huh.

“Data, did you see my PADD laying around anywhere back there?”

The buzzing stopped, but only for a second. Data could work and speak. “No. Are you certain you placed it in your bag?”

“Well, I _thought_ so, but …” But it wasn’t there. Geordi was pretty sure he hadn’t heard the clatter of it falling out of the bag, but he also hadn’t checked in on it all day. He had just assumed he’d thrown it in his bag that morning – but maybe he hadn’t? Maybe it was just sitting on his bed? “Maybe not?” The day had been insane, after all.

“Hm. Check your dormitory when you return.” Geordi agreed and settled with his coat behind his head, curled up there. “Geordi, I have a query about human culture.”

This wasn’t exactly the time. Geordi considered telling him that, but he could manage a few questions to the guy who’d saved his face _and_ his VISOR. “Hit me.”

“Hand-holding is regarded as romantic in nature, is it not?”

What a strange question after everything that had happened, but he’d stopped questioning Data’s priorities long ago. It was better just to answer his questions and move on. Who was he to question the inner machinations of Data’s mind? “It can be, sure. It can also be platonic. I think some species find it sexual. It can also be just, you know. Nothing.”

“I see. Like knee touching. Then may I ask why you refused my hand when I held yours?”

His mind clicked with the connection. He was glad that Data wasn’t capable of getting offended. Some people did get offended when they tried to lead him and Geordi took his hand away. “It’s an independence thing, Data. A lot of people think I’m basically helpless without my VISOR. While I do rely on it _a lot_ – I don’t like people assuming that I can just be led around like a child if I don’t have it.”

“Ah. It removes some of your personal agency.”

“Right. I can still make my way around without it. You didn’t mess up or anything, obviously. Given the day, it might, uh – be perfectly sensible that you’d want to help me get around. But it’s just, I don’t know, instinctual to pull away from that sort of thing.”

Geordi’s eyes were shut, now, leaning against the jacket. It was good to feel comfortable with Data. Strike that, it felt good to explain things and not have to worry about Data’s private thoughts on the matter. If Data didn’t understand, or didn’t agree – Geordi was sure he’d be hearing about it.

“I see. Thank you, Geordi.” What’s more, it felt good to educate Data – or at least let him feel more comfortable. Geordi was in the process of feeling useless, just resting his head against his coat. “I was concerned that your romantic feelings for me had changed.”

And, in the split of an instant, Geordi suddenly turned _very_ uncomfortable. _Is this really the time we have to talk about this?_ He flinched on the bench and tried to play it off. “R-romantic feelings? What are you talking about?”

“26.8 days ago, I came to your dormitory so that you would repair the damage done to my external epidermis. Before I came in, I overheard your conversation with your mother. She determined that you were, to use the human term, ‘smitten’.”

“ _Data.”_ Geordi groaned against his coat. “We don’t have to talk about it. You don’t have to think about it. For humans, sometimes, it’s … involuntary. Seriously, it isn’t worth thinking about. You shouldn’t even have overheard it. And I _really_ don’t want to talk about it after what just happened.”

“I apologize. The doors are very thin in the dormitories. I was unable to predict what I would hear. I have been thinking on it very much.”

He didn’t have to be here for this, did he? He trusted Data to drop off the VISOR to his dormitory as soon as it was finished. Getting there was another issue, but walking into a pole sounded like a better alternative than having _this_ conversation. Geordi was willing to bear his heart a little in order to make sure Data knew learned about human culture, but this was out of the question.

Sometimes he _really_ wished Data had a better sense of timing.

“Hey. I think I’m going to hit the h – “

“You are uncomfortable.”

Geordi leaned back down on the bench. At least Data realized. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

He could do this. If Data could be objective and detached, so could he. Maybe it would help him objectivize his _own_ feelings. If he could show himself that his feelings were irrational, even silly … _maybe_ it would make him feel better. Or maybe it would make him feel worse.

Either way, Data deserved an answer.

“Sometimes, other people get uncomfortable when someone likes them and they don’t like them back. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable because I like you. I don’t want you to feel obligated, or that you constantly have to bring it up. I’m also, like, really tired after today.”

“Rest assured that I do not _feel_ anything.”

“I know.” Geordi sighed. He had shifted down on the bench until he was lying perfectly flat on his back. Maybe he could just sleep here. “It’s also just … sad, when you like someone and they don’t like you back.”

“I can understand wanting to be liked.”

“Yeah.” His voice was soft, staring blankly up at the ceiling. “It’s very human.”

Geordi supposed that, if he was going to have an unfortunate crush, it was for the best to have an unfortunate crush on someone who wouldn’t treat the entire situation awkwardly. He took a deep breath. The newly regenerated skin started to feel naturally around his eyes, and he tenderly touched it. Later, he’d check to make sure if it looked as natural as it felt.

“I have been investigating my sexuality programming,” Data continued. “And my romantic programming. It is difficult and vague and not well-explored.”

“For you and me both. Find anything interesting?”

“It is my belief that I am capable of experiencing both sexual and romantic attraction. I am not certain. I will not be skilled at it. But I would like to investigate it, and I would like to know.” Another small _fzzzt!_ And Geordi heard a portion of metal creak from the VISOR. “It seems appealing to go on a romantic date with you, but I do not want to make you uncomfortable, if I conclude that I am incapable of experiencing both or either.”

That was one hell of a risk. Geordi wanted to ask a dozen questions that he knew Data wouldn’t be able to answer – how would he know if he felt attraction? How long would it take? How certain did he need to be?

What would happen if Geordi genuinely fell in love with the guy, and it turned out that Data didn’t have the programming to love him back?

None of the questions left his mouth. Instead, Geordi just puzzled with a frown.

“That is why I am leaving the decision up to you. You are more knowledgeable in human emotions than I am. I do not know whether it would be selfish or manipulative of me to engage in a relationship with you, knowing how it may end.”

He went silent, and Geordi realized the decision was being left up to him. He stared at the ceiling and tried to consider it. It was a risk. While he believed that Data was advanced – _highly_ advanced, the most advanced android he’d ever known – he didn’t know whether Data could love.

If he didn’t, Geordi wouldn’t string him along. It would be pathetic on his end and useless on Data’s.

He considered rejecting Data. Trying to get over his ridiculous crush another way. Going on a date with another Matt in the world, having a standard relationship like everyone else. Staying friends with Data, of course, but not even considering a romantic relationship.

It sounded … okay.

Not great.

“You said, uh,” Geordi cleared his throat. “You said a date with me sounded good. Why?”

“You are my friend. My databases inform me that friends occasionally engage in romantic relationships. You are intelligent and have repaired me before. You have been shown to stand up for me when I am attacked. You are a very admirable person. You have just risked your life in order to save your fellow Starfleet members. Those are six reasons out of a computed one hundred and twenty seven concerning why a relationship with you would be desirable.”

“Yeah?” Desperate to clear some of the tension (and trying not to think too much on _one hundred and twenty seven reasons)_ , Geordi quipped, “But do you think I’m handsome?”

“As much as I can be said to realize and appreciate beauty, yes. You are handsome, Geordi.’

That took the wind out of his sails. Data thought he was physically attractive.

If that didn’t make his decision for him, Geordi didn’t know what other one hundred and twenty six reasons would. He’d taken riskier odds before, and he knew Data was being as transparent as he possibly could. Geordi wasn’t sure if Data was capable of acting with the intent to hurt someone. If it failed, then it just wasn’t meant to be, and Geordi was willing to live with that.

Besides, what relationship didn’t start with the risk of getting your heart broken?

And, after today – what was one more risk?

“Then, Mr. Data,” Geordi queried, a small smile on his face. The buzzing had stopped near his VISOR. “Could I interest you in a date?”

“Yes.” His voice was a lot closer than expected, which made Geordi jump. Data’s fingers delicately curled around the ports on his temples, and then the connections clicked. “Please remain still. Is tomorrow preferable for you?”

The world came into beautiful, fantastic view. And at that moment, the entire world was Data. He was leaning over him, hovering a few inches above his face as he reconfigured the ports, taking up most of his vision. Geordi’s VISOR worked like a charm, exactly the same as normal. Data was good. He shouldn’t have worried about it, but it was no small relief to have it on his face again.

“It’s okay, Data. You connected it,” Geordi remarked, shuffling through some filters internally. “You did a great job. Thanks. And, yeah. Tomorrow sounds great. I’ll plan it.”

Data’s fingers lingered on his temples for some time, before the android finally straightened. “Thank you. I do not know what will be done on the date, but I trust your judgment. We should return to the instructors, to inform them of what occurred.”

 _What occurred._ Jesus. That was right. Already, it seemed like it happened ages ago, when he’d been clinging to a ladder forty-five minutes ago. And now he had a date. Data certainly didn’t wait for _the right moment,_ did he?

He was glad Data trusted his judgment, because Geordi was suddenly _deeply_ nervous about his own. But it’d be okay. Taking Data’s hand to help him up, Geordi got his bearings. Data caught his elbow as he stumbled to the side, causing Geordi to grin up at him.

It would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An early morning update (ironically, because I have to go into work to fix a machine). Thanks all to those who have read so far, and thanks all to have left comments - I really do get a thrill reading through all of them, and I do appreciate it. Have a good Saturday!


	10. Admiral Arbuthnot

“You guys are _terrible,”_ Geordi complained, slumped over his desk in Federation History. Jorge had taken his PADD and was faux-seriously examining it in a thoughtful sort of way. Geordi was in massive emotional pain because his two dumbbell-head friends decided that they were going to have some fun with the knowledge that Geordi had a _date._

“Yup. Says it riiiiiiight here. Mr. Geordi Data.”

“ _That’s not even his last name!”_ He hissed, reaching for it. Matt chuckled and plucked the PADD from Jorge’s hands, humming to himself in examination.

In the end, they’d never found his PADD from the incident in the engine room (two days ago, now). Geordi hadn’t let it bother him too much. Another PADD was easily replicated. Geordi hadn’t asked Data to transmit his files over to him again. It had seemed like an almost _intimate_ act the first time, to be granted the privilege of knowing something deep about Data, and it felt like it would cheapen the act to send them over again.

Besides, and he knew it was irrational, it felt like Geordi had squandered his chances by letting the PADD get stolen. Which was _stupid,_ he knew, but there it was.

They had given their debriefing to the instructor as soon as the VISOR had been repaired. At first, Geordi had been keen to skip over the parts where he’d risked life and limb, but Data had instead emphasized it. He’d been partially waiting to be slapped on report for the past forty-eight hours for not following the evacuation order. So far, nothing had happened. Geordi was starting to hope that they’d just … forgotten about it.

Besides, technically, he _had_ saved the day. It just felt like going against the crowd – in any direction – was a bad thing when you were a first-year cadet.

“So, have you decided where you’re taking him tonight?” Matt asked, still half-laughing as the PADD was passed back over to Geordi. “Romantic gondola ride on the river, maybe?”

Geordi rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I don’t know if he can swim and I’m not exactly going to try to find out. There’s a concert going on in the park. He likes music and art – or, at least, I think he’s trying to. Then I thought we’d just take a walk and sit. It’s his first date, like, ever. I don’t want to make it seem like dates are really intense.”

For first dates, Geordi was not opposed to dinner and a movie. Maybe drinks. But Data didn’t eat and couldn’t get drunk, and Geordi would be damned if he was going to be any less than perfectly in control for his first date with the android who had more processing power than the entire Human race.

“See, I don’t think you’re using him to his full potential,” Jorge joked. “If you rode on his back, he could probably take you all the way to Los Angeles in a couple of hours. They’ve got a really nice nightlife there.”

Geordi spared a venomous glare.

“I’m just saying! Super fast, super strong – “

“And his mind immediately goes into using him as a form of transport. Really, we’re very proud of Jorge,” Matt teased, turning towards Geordi. “You nervous?”

 _Like hell._ “Nah.” Geordi was going to try his hardest to bluff. “He’s my friend. We get along together. A date isn’t that much different from what we would do normally.” _Except, you know, there’s the mutual understanding that you both want to date._ “And honestly, I think he’s partially using this as a scientific exercise. It’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure we’ll hear all about it the next day. Just think about it, Geordi, you could be the _first_ man who’s ever had sex with –”

“Oh, no,” Jorge corrected. “People have _definitely_ had sex with androids before. I’ll show you later.”

“Not one as advanced as Data!” Geordi groaned and set his head in the desk as Matt and Jorge bickered between them. This wasn’t doing anything to help his nerves. He was attracted to Data – that much was obvious – but he was nervous as hell just thinking about tonight, and these two weren’t helping. “Hang on,” Matt suddenly muttered. Geordi raised his head to see Matt nudge Jorge hard. “Who’s the Admiral?”

_Admiral Arbuthnot._

A hush immediately fell over the cadets as the middle-aged man strode into the room, arms tightly held behind his back. He seemed to regard the crowd of cadets with a wary eye, as if examining each individual one. Geordi felt like he was mentally going through everyone’s records.

_Oh shit oh shit oh shit, not me not me not me this cannot be good._

Admiral Arbuthnot’s eyes fell on him. “Cadet La Forge,” he requested. “May we speak for a moment?”

Geordi wasn’t sure how he could telepathically convey ‘ _please don’t put me on report, I have a date tonight, sir’,_ but he sure could try. Nothing clicked. His shoulders slumped in a defeated gesture. Respectfully, Geordi stood and shuffled forward to follow him. Feeling Matt and Jorge’s eyes on him, they both disappeared into the hall.

“I’m certain you know what this is about, cadet.” Geordi idly wondered if admirals learned how to fold their arms behind their back so stiffly naturally, or if there was some sort of course involved. They were walking and talking. With classes ongoing, the halls were nearly deserted. Geordi was grateful for it, it meant that he didn’t have to stand and stare at the Admiral. He wondered if he could reach up and detach his VISOR and be shifted into pleasant nothingness, but he figured accidentally walking into a wall would be a thousand times worse. “The incident in the warp core laboratory.”

“Yes, sir. I assumed as much.” In the hall, there were paintings and photos of old, famous Starfleet personnel. People important to the Federation, too. Geordi caught sight of Zefram Cochrane himself, staring down from an old painting. _I went to your high school, buddy, help me out here,_ _pull a fire alarm or something_ _._ “Can I ask what your concern is?”

“The _concern_ is that you nearly went and got yourself involved in a warp core breach. What was going through your mind?”

He had practiced this a thousand times. In front of the mirror, in front of Data, in front of his Mom when he’d had a bit of a breakdown about nearly getting his face melted off. The words came out practiced and even-tempered. “Cadet Data and I noticed an energy fluctuation within the warp core. Well, sir, we knew that just couldn’t be possible. We also knew that if it was generating the same amount of energy as a normal warp core put out, it’d blow before anyone else could get to it. The evacuation wouldn’t matter much, in that circumstance. That lab, the lab next door, and the lab down the street would all be ashes.”

There, Arbuthnot lapsed into silence. Geordi was confident that he didn’t do anything wrong – morally. In terms of regulation, there were _several_ _rules_ that called against physically climbing a vertical warp core and manually manipulating it during a laboratory exercise. Lives saved or not.

But, for whatever it was worth, he had the moral high ground. And didn’t Admiral Kirk always say that rules didn’t matter as much as morality?

“So, can you tell me what you decided to do?”

“It became obvious really quickly that someone had let the matter and antimatter cores touch. I figured something had gotten dislodged up there. I went up and fixed it myself.” Just like that. Just ‘fixed it’. No life-or-death, no elaborate stunts, certainly nothing about his VISOR getting melted.

“You went up there and fixed it yourself. You didn’t think to get Cadet Data to do it?” There was something almost whimsical in Admiral Arbuthnot’s harsh face. “The cadet that’s nigh-on indestructible?”

Oh. That … hadn’t occurred to him before.

Data probably could’ve gotten up there faster, probably could’ve sorted out the issue quicker, _and_ gotten down there without getting a blast of steam in his face.

So why hadn’t he? Why hadn’t Data rushed forward and been the big damn hero? It would’ve saved Geordi a lot of pain, comparatively.

“I … I didn’t think of it at the time, sir.” Geordi swallowed to think. “Cadet Data is my friend. I know what he is, obviously, but most of the time I don’t think of him as anything other than a fellow cadet. I wouldn’t ask a human cadet to do that. I knew we didn’t have a lot of time, either.”

Admiral Arbuthnot considered that conclusion, and Geordi had the strangest sensation that he was being pur on trial. Did Admiral Arbuthnot think he was lying? Why would he lie? “Then that was a very brave thing you did, cadet. You’re not going to be put on report for it, if that’s where your concern is. You don’t have to look like you’re in a corner.”

Geordi let out an audible sigh of relief. He didn’t have to reschedule his date, at least.

“And Cadet Data ended up repairing your optical device?” Geordi had to resist the urge to snort at that. VISOR, while not only a handy acronym, was a lot easier to say.

With a smile, Geordi added, “And my face, sir.” He’d checked in the mirror after he’d gotten back. Data could have been an artist. There’d been no conceivable changes, other than the normal bumpiness from regenerated skin that smoothed out within a day or two. “He was a lifesaver. Literally, it felt like. At the time.”

Arbuthnot frowned. “Usually the reports I receive from him aren’t so glowing.”

“How do you mean?”

“He has had a report filed against him for aggressive behavior. Threats, you understand.”

Geordi felt like he’d been caught up in a whirlwind. _Data? Aggressive?_ He’d seen Data’s protocols against being aggressive. Dozens of protocols had to be bypassed for Data to even consider violence as an option.

_What?_

“I don’t believe that _for a second!”_ Stupefied, Geordi was talking much louder than he really intended to. He’d nearly shouted it right in Admiral Arbuthnot’s face. “Sorry, sir. But really, he’s one of the most non-aggressive people I’ve met. I’d have concerns for him if he wanted to do Command, that’s how non-aggressive he is. He’s the most gentle guy on campus.”

“You know him well, cadet?”

_Oh, you know. Maybe._

“Probably better than anyone here, sir,” Geordi reported confidently.

“Hm.” Arbuthnot shook his head. “We’ll see how it turns out. The report was from a very reputable source, but it is not your concern. I wanted to ask if you thought that the incident with the warp core was intentional sabotage. Our engineers have formed their own conclusion, but I’d like to hear yours.”

Geordi recalled the displaced dust he’d seen in the panel. “Yes, sir. I do.”

“Have you got any ideas as to who it could be? Who could do something like that?”

The memory of Korlack staring down at him from the metal walkway flashed into his head, but Geordi immediately dismissed it. There was a gargantuan difference between ‘attacked someone they didn’t think was alive’ and ‘try to take out half the Engineering department’. While it did feel particularly juicy to condemn a really shitty guy, Geordi had to admit that he didn’t have any proof. This wasn’t targeted at Data. This would’ve killed everyone, and Korlack – along with his partner-in-crime Kagrin – had shown that he was explicitly _against_ harming organic beings.

No, it had to be some anti-Federation terrorist or _something._ A weird target, to be sure, but Geordi shook his head.

“No idea, sir,” Geordi finally settled. “I hope it doesn’t happen again.”

“No,” Arbuthnot muttered. “Let’s both hope as much. Regardless, cadet. You’ll be receiving a commendation on your record for your valor.”

A _commendation?_ Geordi only had a dim view of what that meant – he understood what it meant on a starship. That meant you risked your life, or you thought of something very clever, or you made First Contact and hadn’t accidentally destroyed a civilization. It meant moving up the promotion list, it meant showing initiative, it meant being _noticed._

As a cadet, though? Geordi wasn’t certain if it meant anything more than a star on his record. It still made his chest puff up in pride, though, just hearing the words. The details would be in his file. He was going to call Mom and Dad over this, _for sure._ Oh! And he’d have to tell Data. Speaking of Data …

“Thank you, sir. Will Cadet Data, also?’

That made the Admiral laugh, and Geordi’s hopeful smile dropped into a frown. He didn’t like the Admiral’s laugh, certainly not at Data’s expense.

“I don’t think that’d be the case. While medically attending to another cadet is to be expected in an emergency situation should one have the training, you’re the one that stuck their neck on the line.”

Geordi’s frown remained. Once upon a time, the thought of beating Data at something would’ve filled him with fierce, ridiculous, mean-spirited joy. Now he … kind of felt bad about it, even if he understood Admiral Arbuthnot’s reaction. Only one cadet had spirited up that warp core, and it hadn’t been the android.

They stopped at the gigantic doors leading to the outside grounds. It was officially too cold to eat outside, with only a few shivering cadets moving from building to building. Geordi caught sight of Data standing some dozens of feet away, peering over a bush and unperturbed at the cold. It was … endearing, but also a grim reminder that Data, at his core, at his _molecular level_ – was different. Always would be. “I understand. Is that all, Admiral?”

“Yes, cadet. That’s all.”

Geordi was grateful. He stepped away from the Admiral, his gaze focused on the android on the grounds. The commendation drifted towards the back of his mind as thoughts of Data drifted to the forefront. Someone had filed a complaint against him? For being _aggressive?_ He’d never seen Data like that, couldn’t _imagine_ Data being like that.

Then again, he had read over some of Data’s physical parameters. He was strong. Scarily so. If he really wanted to get rid of everyone at the Academy, then it’d take him … well, he wouldn’t be _able_ to do it, because he’d be taken down before then. Sure, his polymer was tough, but he – like most other living beings in the world – had an off switch.

_Unless he took everyone out all at once, like a warp core breach._

The thought sprang unbidden to the front of his mind as he walked closer to Data, and Geordi shook his head. No, that was … that was _insane._ Data had no reason to do that. Sure, maybe he had the technical knowhow and no biological sense of morality and a very good reason to despise most organic beings – but it was _Data,_ for heaven’s sake.

Data was holding a butterfly.

“I’ve watched you now for a full half-hour, self-poised upon that little flower. And yellow butterfly! Indeed, I know not if you sleep or feed.” The butterfly delicately walked along Data’s fingertips, unperturbed at the slight motion of the android. It must’ve been one of the last butterflies before winter. A rare thing. Data’s voice pitched louder, almost theatrical in its cadence. “How motionless! Not frozen seas more motionless! And then what joy awaits you, when the breeze hath found you out among the trees, and calls you forth again!”

In this case, the breeze was Geordi La Forge. When he stepped forward again, less than a foot away, the butterfly flickered his wings and fluttered away. Data turned to smile at him mechanically.

 _You’re an idiot, Geordi La Forge,_ he told himself, and any even momentary doubt or fear of the android fluttered away with the butterfly. He was all in on Data.

“What was that, Data?”

“To a Butterfly’, by an 18th and 19th century Human poet named William Wordsworth. I have been accessing many poetry files recently. It is quite fascinating.”

“Yeah?” Geordi’s breath puffed out in the cold. Data’s did not. “How do you figure?”

“Many poems utilize irrational or inaccurate imagery to explain common occurrences and emotions. For example, I know the butterfly sleeps and feeds. It must, to maintain its life. And yet, I also understand that it is meant to emphasize the surreal, almost mythical quality of animal creatures, prevalent in poetry of that era.” Data paused. “I would be unable of coming up with such a comparison myself. Poetry is a useful strategy for understanding human nature.”

That did make logical sense. “I guess so, Data. I never really had a head for it, though.”

“Why?”

“To be honest with you, I don’t think I’m that creative.” It wasn’t a put-down. Geordi didn’t mind reading (though, if fiction was involved, he preferred audio while he worked on something else), but he’d never been artistically inclined in his entire life.

Data shook his head. “I do not think that is the case. You are highly creative in your engineering solutions. For example, when we realized that a warp core breach was imminent, you determined that the best solution was to climb and manually fix the separator. I did not think of it.”

“I find it hard to believe that you didn’t think of it, with your infinite processing power.”

“My processing power is not – ah. Exaggeration to prove a point. I see. If the solution did occur to me, it was quickly dismissed. My higher order programming forbids placing sentient life at unnecessary risk, so most of my solutions were revolved around the contingency that you evacuated first. However, you refused to.” Data looked down at the bush again. “I have made some revisions since then, but the matter stands that I did not consider your highly creative solution, Geordi.’

Highly creative, reckless, what was the difference? “Maybe that’s the case, Data. It’s complimentary, at any rate.”

“You are welcome. May I ask about your conversation with Admiral Arbuthnot?”

Of course Data had seen. Data saw everything. Desperate to keep walking in the cold, Geordi began to walk away into the grounds. Data kept up with him easily. “Oh. Yeah, sure. He wanted to touch base on what happened with the warp core.”

“You are not in trouble?”

“No. Are you?”

“No. Nobody has spoken to me about the event.”

That was good, at least. “He wanted to know what happened. He wanted to know _why_ it happened, if I thought anyone was capable of such a thing. I said no, of course not.” Data nodded beside him in agreement. “He also … told me that I was getting a commendation, for what I did.”

Data’s hand shot out to thump him, _hard,_ on the back. Geordi stumbled forward, nearly losing his balance and face-planting on the ground. “ _Ow!_ What was that for?”

“I have injured you.” Data’s hands were probing at his back, now, as if trying to seek out a bruise. His face was apologetic. “I was performing a ritual shoulder-thump of congratulations, but I appear to have misjudged my force. My intention was to congratulate you on such a feat. It is not common for cadets to receive commendation, but it is well-deserved for you.”

The thump had been more painful than comfortable, but there was no bruising. Geordi was more than fine with allowing Data to rub at his shoulder in apology, though. Warmth spread through his chest. “Thanks, Data. It doesn’t feel like I did a big thing, though.”

“Risking your life for others is not a ‘big thing’?”

“No, but it’s …” _It’s not me. It was just an Engineering thing. It wasn’t like I was in Command and risked my life somewhere,_ _playing fighter jet against Romulans_ _._ _I just fixed something. Nobody gets a medal for fixing a toaster._ “I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.” Although he enjoyed Data’s praise, he was keen to steer the conversation away from myself. “Hey, did you know someone made a complaint that you were _aggressive?”_

“Yes.”

 _Oh._ “What was that about?”

They were heading towards the park just outside of the Academy. The sun had just stared to set, the sky a hazy pink. He wondered if the date had officially started yet, or if they were just in transit _to_ the date until they got to the symphony. Eventually, Geordi decided on the latter. Less nerve-wracking if it wasn’t a date, really.

“My first weekend at the Academy, I engaged in a game of Parrises Squares with several cadets. I had recently downloaded a full history of the sport, as well as several dozen variations of rules, and I was eager to engage.”

“And? What, did you play a little too hard?”

“I believe that may have been the case. I had changed my output to roughly Human levels, but I may have misjudged my external force. Once, when attempting to reach the top of the ramp, I pushed my lance against another cadet. He lost his balance and broke his nose. It was Cadet Kagrin.”

“ _Kagrin?”_

“Yes. It was our first meeting.”

Geordi prevented himself from snickering, but instead nodded sympathetically. He wasn’t sure it came out as genuine. “Jesus, and he filed an aggression complaint against you for _that?_ What a sore loser. I don’t think it’s even possible to be _too_ aggressive in Parrises Squares. I’m organic and _I’ve_ done worse.”

“That is my presumption. I also found it unusual, but the complaint was dismissed after several players corroborated my story. I did not think much of it later, but I did not engage in Parrises Squares again.”

Geordi was not a Parrises Squares sort of guy. It was hard to be, when he had a very sensitive and very precious piece of equipment on his face. But he had played once or twice (with extensive head protection). “Yeah? Maybe you and I can play sometime.”

“Parrises Squares requires eight players, Geordi.”

“Yes. You, me, Lyra, Talia, Matt, Jorge – I’m sure we could get two more, somewhere.” Data considered it, before nodding in appreciation. Good. Geordi didn’t like the thought of Data being put off the sport together because some jackass couldn’t see where he was running. Broken noses in Parrises Squares, even with all human players, weren’t uncommon. “Maybe next weekend.”

Out of the Academy proper, Geordi was pleased as they started to approach the park. There were more people here, civilians and enlisted alike trying to enjoy the last few tolerable days of being outside for more than a minute or two. Cadets were playing flying disc games in the corner, there was a baby in a stroller, a dog strained at his leash to greet another dog. Geordi could hear the faint noises of the string section warming up from across the park.

Data paused beside him. “The date has commenced,” he stated to himself, soft.

It certainly had. Geordi took a deep breath and tried not to let that fact overwhelm him _too_ much. Data was different than everyone else. It followed to reason that the first date would be different than any others.

Which was good, because any romantic experience that Geordi had ever had, at _all,_ was completely vanished from his head.

An awkward silence ensued. _Jesus, what do I say? What can I possibly say to him that won’t come off as weird?_ It gave Geordi a lot of time to look around the park. He noticed a strange phenomenon of people going about their active, everyday activities, but as soon as their cone of vision crossed Data – they would do a double take. Even if they didn’t know what Data was, there was something _just_ different enough about his skin, his eyes, his hair.

Geordi took a half-step closer to him, almost protective.

Data looked down at him, before quipping, “Geordi, do you want children?” He blinked once. “Disregard that. What do you do for a living?” Another blink. “No. May I request what your most recent dream was like?”

“Uh, are you feeling okay?”

“I have begun to search in my files concerning questions to ask on a first date. Most are either redundant, highly personal, or entirely nonsensical. I apologize. I am not doing well at this.”

“No,” Geordi insisted, maybe a little too directly. “You’re doing fine. There’s no special questions you have to ask me, just … we can just talk, like normal?”

“Normal. Yes.” Was Data _nervous?_ That didn’t seem like it was a very synthetic process. “I would be interested to know what your most recent dream was like.”

That led Geordi to quirk an eyebrow. He hadn’t really considered it before, but … “You don’t dream, Data?”

“No. I do not sleep. I replicate sleeping in order to make my roommate more comfortable with my presence, but I consider it inefficient and unproductive. Were I to live alone, I would not.” Geordi didn’t get much time to unpack _that_ incredibly depressing thought, of Data just laying in his bed for eight hours doing nothing. “May I ask your most recent dream?”

He had to rack his head, but something came to him. “Sure. I was on the _USS Europa,_ I was there when I was nine, maybe ten years for a few weeks. Tiny little research junker. And my Dad was there, and my Mom.”

“Is that how it was, in reality?”

“No. No, Mom was …” Sometimes it got hard to keep track of his mother’s posts. “Psssht. Planetside somewhere, I think? But definitely not on the _Europa_ with me.” He paused as he tried to focus on it. The dream hadn’t left a particular impression on him either way. “And I was trying to find one of my friends from back then.”

“To do what?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you find them?”

Geordi focused, _hard._ “I don’t think so? There were a lot of doors that were locked, for some reason. And then I woke up after that.”

He wished he had something more thoughtful to give Data, because he frowned a little.

“Yeah. A little anti-climactic. Dreams are like that.”

“Really? Analysis of literature and poetry has led to me believe that dreams are indicative of a grander meaning, or strong psychological introspection.’

“Not really. Usually, they’re just random. Sometimes fun. Sometimes scary.” They came over the hill of the park symphony. Other cadets and civilians had started to gather in a semi-circle around the slightly raised wooden stage. Up above, the sun was setting in earnest around them. The lights around the park started to flick on. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

The growing darkness was … kind of cozy.

Data went to retrieve a blanket from the nearby replicator, settling out on the grass. Geordi settled beside Data and watched the players warm-up. Data was rapt with attention in watching.

“Do you have anything _like_ sleep?” Geordi asked curiously. He settled on his back to stare up at the sky. By now, he’d long gotten used to the expanse above him, but he still loved it just the same. It wasn’t only the stars. He could see so much more than the stars. A gigantic chunk of the electromagnetic spectrum was visible to him, shimmering and beautiful, and Geordi wished he could share it with everyone else. They’d never stop looking at the sky. And while Data wasn’t touching him, he could still sense Data’s body right there.

One day, he’d be back up there. His eyes flicked over to Data, sitting stiffly beside him. _It’d be nice …_ Geordi thought to himself, and let the thought trail off.

Data was kneeling on the blanket, sitting straight. To anyone biological, it would have been incredibly uncomfortable. “In what respect?”

“You know, sometimes the body repairs itself when people sleep. I assume you can perform some self-maintenance.”

“Yes. With my processing power, I can devote a portion of my focus to the task at hand, and a portion of my focus to self-repair. However, I remain fully conscious throughout this process.”

“So maybe not exactly like sleep.” Geordi frowned to think, folding his arms behind his head. “How about deactivation? Would _that_ be like sleep?”

He didn’t hear an immediate response, and supposed at first that maybe Data was thinking. When he flicked his eyes over to Data, though, he was surprised to see that Data looked … unhappy. Oh. “No,” Data quietly replied, “That would be more akin to death. I would be unable to re-activate myself, if all my systems were shut down.”

Yeesh. In front of them, the band started to gather together to play. It was supposed to be classical in nature, with brief diversions into jazz or contemporary music. Geordi knew precisely _nothing_ about classical music, but he’d heard Data mention it once or twice. “Is there a happy medium?”

“Yes. I lay down in my bed, I shut my eyes, and I do not move for eight hours.”

Geordi was going to protest that that wasn’t exactly a _happy_ medium, but he figured that it was probably the closest thing that Data had. Regardless, his attention was focused on Data’s uncomfortable position. He shifted his weight to one elbow and reached over to tug at Data’s arm. “Want to sit down?”

Complying, Data sat with his legs straight out in front of him. It still seemed strangely stiff and artificial, but less so. Geordi was nevertheless impressed with his range of movement. “Are you comfortable, Geordi?”

“Yeah.” And he was. The blanket was warm from the replicator, the orchestra was starting their first song, and Data was looking down at him. And, despite being on the first date, Geordi was completely at ease.


	11. Chapter 11

They listened to a few songs in comfortable silence. Geordi never sat up to stare at the orchestra, but he occasionally cracked his eyes open to look at his boyfriend. Data’s eyes were moving fast, back and forth across the stage. Noting finger movements, maybe. Occasionally, Geordi would see his fingers twitch in a severe fashion, followed by a jerked movement of the head. Mimicking the players.

“Do you play anything, Data?”

Data looked down at him. “I am programmed with the structural understanding to play every instrument.”

“Yeah, but do you … _actively_ play anything?”

His gaze drifted back to the stage, and if Geordi didn’t know any better, he would say that the android looked _wistful._ “I would like to play the violin.”

“Why don’t you?”

“I would not want to disturb my roommate. There are many groups within the Academy, but I do not think they would welcome my presence.” Data caught himself and clarified. “I would have to intentionally modify my programming to make a mistake. It would have to be purposeful.”

Geordi’s lips split into a smile. “You’ll worry they’ll be jealous of you?”

“Yes. I do not understand many emotions very well, but I particularly do not understand jealousy. I have often been accused of inspiring it in my classwork.”

Geordi avoided the smidgen of guilt that hit him. “Don’t worry about that, okay? You still deserve to have fun. Just go. If you don’t feel welcome there, you can leave, but don’t _not_ go because you’re worried about how people will react.” Geordi was a half-step away from offering to go _with_ him. Thankfully, Data broke in before Geordi could say anything.

“It matters to you. Why does it matter to you?”

For anything else, the question would come off as dickish. Data, though. Geordi was still confused about why he was asking. “What do you mean? You don’t _seriously_ doubt that I don’t want you to be comfortable, after all this time, do you?”

“You have already made me comfortable. You have protected me physically. You have spent time with me socially. You have connected with me intellectually. Why do you still attempt to make certain I am comfortable, even if we are not in physical proximity?”

He didn’t know enough about psychology for this. Geordi knew there was probably a right way to say it, and he wasn’t going to say that. But he could try his best. Reaching to the side, Geordi patted Data’s leg.

“Data, I don’t do all that for _my_ sake. I mean, not only my sake. I care about how you’re doing _independent_ of me being there. You have every right to be here and do things that every other cadet can do. If it’ll make you hap – if it’ll fulfill you, then yeah, it matters to me whether you go or hide yourself away.” Geordi’s words were emphatic. “You _matter_ to me.”

His hands settled back on his abdomen, staring directly into Data’s eyes.

“I do not understand much about human connection. But, thank you, Geordi. You also matter to me.”

Geordi grinned up at him.

Data’s eyes soon returned to the stage, and Geordi let his own shut again. It went on for some time longer. Enough time for it to be completely dark around them; at some point, Data went to the replicator to retrieve a lantern to set in the middle of their blanket. He could see the other couples just fine, but he preferred to think of them as their own bubble.

It got colder. Geordi felt it start to seep into his bones, and he tried to ignore his rapidly numbening hands as best as he could.

As the players changed in the orchestra, it gradually became more jazzy in nature. It was fitting as it grew late, and despite himself, Geordi almost felt himself start to … _doze off._ Not quite, not fully asleep, but he nuzzled his head further into the blanket.

Every so often, ostensibly to prevent himself from _actually_ dozing off, Geordi would open his eyes to watch Data.

Data’s eyes were wandering from the stage. Every so often, they’d look towards the other people watching the concert. Geordi found himself looking, too. Not all were one dates. Some were families with children, or groups of friends. Still, he noticed Data’s gaze lingered on the lovebirds in the audience. Cuddling close together, or lost in one another’s eyes, or holding hands.

Probably taking notes. The style switched to something more contemporary and Geordi closed his eyes again.

Something nudged his numb hand, and then dragged it off his chest. Geordi opened his eyes to see Data’s fingers interlocking around his own. He smiled at him. It was a strange sensation – while Data’s skin wasn’t _cold,_ it also wasn’t as warm and pliable as human skin. Still, he liked it, and nevertheless squeezed Data’s hand back – as best as he could, with his borderline frozen fingers.

“Your hand is very cold,” Data reported. “We should return to your dormitory.”

But he didn’t _want_ to return to his dormitory. He wanted to stay here, listen to music, and hold Data’s hand until the sun started to come back up. His body did agree with Data, though. The cold was becoming a little difficult to ignore, and as Geordi sat up, he noticed how stiff his joints were. Maybe Data had a point.

Still holding onto Data’s hand, Geordi stood and gathered the blanket. Data retrieved the light. Both were placed into the recycler as they started to wander off from the grounds. Now walking through the cool air of the street, Geordi had to admit that maybe a coat would have been wise.

“In this scenario, you do not mind me holding your hand.” Geordi had to rack his mind to figure out what Data meant – _oh,_ yeah, when his VISOR had been destroyed. “Is this because it is romantic in nature?”

“You got it. You’re not leading me anywhere, you’re just …” It was hard to describe human behavior objectively. Some things Geordi just _felt_ to be right, but that answer wouldn’t satisfy Data. “Physical contact can be nice, sometimes. Humans like that.”

The streetlights shone down on them as they walked. It was surprisingly empty for a Friday night, but Geordi figured most of the cadets were having the time of their lives further in-town. Good. Not only did Geordi not want to be in-town, he appreciated the moments they had together. He had to admit it was the strangest first date he’d ever had – definitely the most mature – but that felt nice, too.

Now, if only he’d met Data several months _earlier,_ so their first date wouldn’t be in the beginning of winter. Geordi was trying not to shiver, but Data’s eyes were on him too much not to notice.

“Why did you not tell me that you were cold?”

“Because I, uh. I didn’t want to leave the park early. I liked listening with you. They were good, don’t you think?”

“Yes. I was watching the expressions of the musicians when playing their instruments. Although they made several mistakes, they nonetheless seemed to be enjoying themselves deeply. I do not believe that those mistakes had a significant impact on the overall experience. I also thought their choices in style were interesting. In order to facilitate a longer concert, they substituted in some players who played more in the style of traditional jazz, which was overall a pleasant effect.”

As Data spoke, Geordi noticed something strange going on in his systems. He first became aware of it through touch – and then, looking at him, a steadily growing heat source throughout his body. _Data, what are you …_

Data dropped his hand and sidestepped closer. Slowly, he rose his arm and placed it around Geordi’s shoulders. It wasn’t a tight grip. His fingers dangled freely off Geordi’s shoulder.

Most obviously? Data’s arm was _warm,_ bordering on _hot._

He looked up at Data in surprise, and saw Data looking down at him. “You are cold,” he returned by way of explanation. Geordi’s heart fluttered warmly. _I’m pretty sure that this is the only time a guy is willing to warm up his skin just to make sure you aren’t cold._ He rose his arm and wrapped it around Data’s waist. It was similarly pleasant to the touch, and Geordi felt warmer already.

It meant that they were walking close, nearly in line with one another down the streets of San Francisco.

“So, first date,” Geordi quipped. “How’s it going for you?”

“I have made several hundred observations about appropriate behavior. The concept of romance has become less daunting to me. While I still do not understand it entirely, this has been a pleasant experience and I understand why organic lifeforms engage in it.”

“You’re enjoying yourself?”

Data had to consider that more. “Yes. I experience enjoyable stimulation. Have you?”

_Don’t make a joke about enjoyable stimulation or you’re going to give a lesson on Human sexual arousal that’s going to be more technical than it is fun._

Instead, Geordi leaned against Data’s side further, letting the heat seep into his jacket. It was dangerously comfortable. “Yeah.” And he _had._ Maybe he’d been worried about being nervous, about going on a date with an android, but it’d been nice. It’d been Data. _“_ Yeah, it’s been good.”

They entered Geordi’s dormitory. At first, he wondered whether Data would simply drop him off here. Data’s arm hadn’t moved from around his shoulders, though, and Geordi certainly wasn’t about to force a goodbye. He travelled with Data until they were right in front of Geordi’s door. _Invite him in,_ a little voice whispered in the back of Geordi’s mind, _What’s the worst that could happen?_

_You try to fool around, Data gets overwhelmed and runs away from Starfleet, and you never see him again?_

No. Data was still trying to figure out a lot of programming, and Geordi would help him with that however he needed. He certainly wasn’t going to push him into discomfort.

“This is me,” Geordi remarked, as if Data _hadn’t_ been to his dorm at least twice before and memorized the room number immediately.

Data’s arm moved from around his shoulders, and Geordi took his own back. The little voice that wanted to invite Data in grew louder, especially with Data looking at him so _intently,_ but he stood by his decision. At least, he stood by his decision enough to be chaste, but he did lean forward to take Data’s hand again, not wanting him to go.

Data, on his end, clearly felt the same. He gripped Geordi’s hand securely, and didn’t even flinch at his hand being, mortifyingly, sweaty. _In your defense, Geordi,_ he told himself, _His hand is a few degrees away from scalding still._

“May I kiss you?”

 _Ohkay._ Geordi had never been asked so formally before, and it threw him off-guard. “Uh,” he mumbled, jerking his hand away somewhat. Data didn’t let go. “Data, I don’t – I know what you said about your sexual programming, you haven’t investigated it – not that it’s _necessarily_ sexual, but –“

“I would like to.” Data blinked once. “If you would like to.”

Well, then …

“Okay,” Geordi breathed out, and Data nodded. He reached forward with his free hand to run his fingers underneath Geordi’s jaw, tilting his head forward. Geordi ran his hand along the side of Data’s neck ( _Warm! Too warm not-Human warm)_ , before curling his fingers into the nape of his neck.

Their lips met. Geordi tried not to make the experience scientific in nature, but he _did_ have to note that his face felt realistic on first touch (but still, _warm)._ He shut his own eyes as he felt Data part his lips; Geordi responded likewise immediately.

And, in less than a second (Geordi was confident of that, anyway), Data’s tongue had thrust into his mouth, too fast, and far enough down his throat that Geordi gagged. He dropped Data’s hand and stumbled back immediately, back of his hand pressed against his mouth. _Don’t throw up don’t throw up don’ t throw up,_ Geordi inwardly chanted as his gag reflex threatened the opposite.

Finally, Geordi’s will won out. He lowered his hand to his side and breathed hard for a second, before uttering, “Bleh.”

“I made a mistake. It was a bad experience.”

“Um, no, it wasn’t great.” _Probably_ the worst kiss he’d ever had, actually. He had to revel for a moment that, even for someone like Data, someone could mess up _that badly._ “Bad. Yeah. Pretty bad.”

Data’s expression shifted into a small pout, not frustrated with anyone but himself. “I am sorry. I will go back to my dormitory. The date was good, thank – “

“Hey. Why don’t you let me show you?”

Data stopped mid-sentence but didn’t respond, clearly uncertain as to Geordi’s intention. Geordi, for his own part, _didn’t_ want a pretty good date to end on an exceptionally bad kiss. Moreover, Data wasn’t going to improve if he had no practice, and Geordi was willing to volunteer himself. The feeling had definitely been there.

He reached for Data’s hand again. Data took it and intertwined their fingers, before giving Geordi a final nod.

Geordi reached for the back of Data’s neck, exactly the same as previously. Data’s free arm curled around Geordi’s back to hold him close. This close, Geordi could see something akin to _nervousness_ in Data’s eyes, and he reveled at how expressive they were. Something whirred in the back of Data’s skull and his pupils slowly dilated, all looking completely natural. _Whoever made you cared an awful lot about you, Data._

When their lips met again, Data kept his firmly closed. His body was still heated. Pressed this close to him, Geordi was getting pretty warm himself from the transfer, comfortably so. Data’s back was nearly pressed against the wall, with Geordi leaning on him, and he was _incredibly_ grateful that no cadet had stepped in to interrupt. While Geordi didn’t give a damn about gossip, he’d prefer not to be interrupted.

His lips parted and Data mimicked him. Geordi wasn’t an expert in kissing; still, he knew enough to not make an attempt to lick the partner’s uvula. He pressed his tongue into Data’s mouth, trying not to make too many scientific observations about it ( _wow very realistic wow warm wow wow wow)._ Thankfully, that was easy enough, because fireworks were going off inside of him – he felt electric, from the bottom of his toes to the tips of his fingertips, almost painful in its intensity.

Data followed suit with his own tongue, considerably more cautious than he had been previously. Data’s arm constricted somewhat, pulling Geordi even closer against him. Any tighter and Geordi would be lifted off the ground, pinned. That didn’t bother him at all.

Geordi was aware that he wasn’t kissing a Human. There was a thousand little things: Data wasn’t breathing. His skin was several shades too warm for even a fever. Although his skin had some pliability to it, there was still the sensation of something _solid_ underneath him. And, of course, the just-barely-there shimmer to his skin, and the way he made absolutely no sound at all. It didn’t take away from the experience. If anything, Geordi felt himself getting used to this dangerously quickly.

His partner was the one to pull away first, taking even his hand back. “You are not breathing,” Data commented, concern in his voice.

Geordi smiled. “Neither are you.”

“I temporarily halted my biological processes so I would not have to prematurely terminate the kiss.”

“Well, so did I.”

Sort of, anyway. Geordi was grinning wider, now, still leaning somewhat against Data. Data returned the smile shyly, clearly someone who did not _precisely_ know what to do with his lips. “That was better.”

Geordi was more confident. He wrapped his arms around Data’s hips. “I’m not going to stroke your ego, but probably the best first kiss I’ve ever had.”

“It was our second.”

“Best first kiss _after_ the worst first kiss. You’re taking all the titles today.”

At first, he was concerned that Data would get the half-confused-half-hurt look on his face again, bringing it up, but Data only settled both hands on Geordi’s face to look down at him. They stood that way for a while, motionless, silent.

Eventually, a cadet coughed as they exited their room. It was enough to make Geordi snap back to attention, stepping back. Data did the same, looking conspicuously non-conspicuous as he examined the minute details of the wall. Geordi knew it was getting late. Inviting Data back to his dorm was _tempting._

Though, looking at Data, he noted bizarrely that the android looked keyed up. Not nervous, exactly, but his eyes were flicking back and forth rapidly. His fingers were performing the same micro-movements he’d seen back at the concert, and, most importantly, Data wasn’t reaching for him and wasn’t offering to come inside, himself.

Did androids get self-conscious?

Data had pushed himself a lot out of his own comfort zone for the day. He’d done a lot of Human things that he’d never done before. There was a lot of data to process, that was for sure. It wasn’t like Geordi was dead-set on anything sexual. But, it _would_ be weird just to have Data lay down and “sleep” in his bed for the rest of the night, even if the alternative was Data “sleeping” in his own room.

Besides. Geordi needed some time alone to process all of it, too. He was _seeing a guy._ Maybe not _dating,_ yet, but _seeing a guy,_ for sure.

Geordi took Data’s hand carefully. He noted that it was significantly cooler. “This was nice,” Geordi emphasized. “But it’s late. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” His date nodded, and Geordi leaned up to peck his cheek amicably. Data’s free hand went to go press against his skin.

He opened his door and stepped inside, pausing just enough to cast one last glance back. Data was returning the gaze steadily, but not unkindly. Geordi offered him one final smile and disappeared inside of his dorm, resisting the urge to shout for joy loud enough for Data to hear.

It would be the last time he’d see Data for ten days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's always nice to have an update where nobody is in immediate peril, though I wouldn't expressly recommend falling asleep on your first date with an android.  
> Thanks to all who've read/kudosed/commented! I read every one and really do appreciate seeing everyone's reactions.


	12. Metamorphosis

It was thirty-five minutes before Basic Warp Design started, and Geordi, of all people, had to be coerced to come to class.Geordi and Lyra were sitting in the empty classroom, the former with an empty cup of coffee sitting in front of him, the other nibbling at a pastry. She’d taken to sitting beside him months ago. Now, with only three weeks left in the semester, she wasn’t going to change her habits anytime soon. Besides, she had admitted that she like sitting in the front of the class with her friends. _Friend,_ now.

She especially wasn’t going to move her seat today, with Geordi’s mood being what it was. He’d barely said a word since they’d come into class.

“He’s an android,” Lyra tried to soothe him. Geordi put his head down on the desk in response. It was more than not wanting to answer – he didn’t want to have to force gratitude, or kindness, when he just wanted to feel _shitty_ about things. “He just doesn’t know how things go, sometimes. He makes the wrong call, like people do all the time. I’m sure he _wanted_ to respond to your comms, but maybe he saw a holovid that showed a date playing hard-to-get?”

“Data isn’t that subtle,” Geordi muttered into the desk out of the side of his mouth. “He wouldn’t think to play coy. He knows he can be straight with me.”

Their date had been on a Friday. Geordi had messaged him at an attentive-but-not-desperate noon on Saturday after careful deliberations with Matt and Talia. He knew he didn’t have to play that sort of game with Data, _but_ Data was also an incredibly blunt person. Hearing Data say directly that Geordi _must_ be very into him because he messaged him so soon would be devastatingly embarrassing. This seemed sensible.

He’d been disappointed at not receiving an answer on Saturday, frustrated with not receiving an answer on Sunday, and now, Monday morning, Geordi was _positive_ that he had somehow mortally offended Data and Data wouldn’t look twice at him again.

Geordi had racked his mind over every detail. Had the concert been a weird choice? Was it him almost falling asleep on the blanket? Had he forced the second kiss on Data? He thought Data had had fun, so much as androids could do that, and he’d been looking forward to his company again. The more he went over it, the more he twisted himself out to be some kind of monster that’d taken advantage of the poor android who just wanted to be a man.

If it hadn’t been for getting the help of his friends, Geordi was certain he’d leave some sort of massive rambling, apologetic voicemail for Data that would only embarrass them both. He just didn’t know _what_ was appropriate, given the situation.

As it was, the voicemail he _had_ left for Data had been short, detached, and politely inquiring about scheduling another date. Probably too far the other direction, but at least it saved his dignity. The voicemail had been carefully workshopped between him and his friends for the maximum levels of coolness and interest.

Lyra patted his back in comfort. “Well, you’ll see him in person today,” she soothed. “He’d never miss class. Plus – you know, you’ve got that shuttlecraft training thing you were going gaga over. When is it, again?”

“Next Monday,” Geordi mumbled. Good, he’d almost forgotten. If Data did hate his guts and thought it’d been a terrible date, then he had to deal with him on an enclosed shuttle for a few hours. In space. Where it was supposed to be _romantic._ He’d just let his mind get ahead of himself again. That was a week away, which meant that Geordi could pretend it was never going to happen.

Peeling himself off the desk, Geordi told himself that he’d have to get a grip. Focus on his studies. Finish his exams. _Move on._ He’d fucked up, somehow, and oh, god, what if he’d ruined all of Data’s potential for future intimacy with _anyone,_ that was so much bigger than just _him_ _–_

“Geordi,” Lyra’s voice, always soft, insisted at him firmly. “You’re doing that thing again where you spiral.”

“You know, most people can’t tell my facial reactions because of the VISOR.”

“Well, they’re probably not all that intelligent to begin with, if the VISOR is all they see.” It was a rare snide comment from Lyra, and Geordi sighed. She was right. “Talk with him today. Figure out what happened, and if it doesn’t work out … then, I don’t know. You know there’s a lot going on with him, internally. Hard to predict what he’s thinking, huh?”

Geordi knew. He also remembered Data’s warning that he wasn’t positive about his romantic or sexual programming. Maybe Data had figured it out and he just wasn’t attracted to him. Geordi wouldn’t blame him if that were the case, but he wished Data would at least _talk_ with him about it. Waiting until Monday was torture. He’d be upset, sure, but at least Data would be ending it then-and-there instead of waiting months down the line.

Some other cadets started to file in, and Geordi abruptly changed the topic to their upcoming shuttle mission. Lyra’s was on Friday. Geordi was content to quiz her about her role there, possible dangers of the shuttlecraft, until the instructor came in just a few seconds shy of the starting time. He trailed off mid-question to look at a particular empty spot in the front row.

Data wasn’t here, and class was starting.

Geordi shared an intense look with his friend, gesturing to the empty spot. She shook her head in a clear indicator of ‘no idea’. There wasn’t anything to be done about it, now – and yet, Geordi kept staring at the door, expecting him to waltz in at any second.

Data, late? It was unheard of. The android had an internal chronometer. The android _didn’t sleep._ The android prized knowledge above almost anything else. He wouldn’t just … skip class.

( _Maybe you fucked up the date so bad that he actually did drop out of Starfleet. You know he considered it before.)_

_  
(Shut up, Geordi.)_

With Data gone and Geordi distracted, Korlack was answering every single question set out by the instructor. He sat in the back of the class, resting against the wall. His pompous, nasally voice nevertheless managed to sail over the aisles to answer the instructor’s every query (and a few that weren’t, formally speaking, queries). Everyone was exhausted and slow-to-start this time of the week, but Korlack seemed as chipper as ever. Even overeager.

Geordi hated him. Not only for his behavior against his friend, but also because he was trying to worry in relative _silence._

The class stretched on into an eternity, but it finally ended with Geordi staring down the clock. Before Geordi could turn to Lyra and obsess over this new development, Instructor Dovin approached him. Andorians generally had a grim resting face, but hers was pulled into a more severe frown. “Cadet La Forge. Cadet Lyra.”

“Cadet Mel, actually. Sorry,” she apologized weakly. “Bajoran naming conventions.” That had been Talia’s doing, Geordi had no doubt, in an attempt to get her girlfriend to stand up for herself more. Usually, she let it roll off her back (‘ _It’s still technically my name, Talia!’)_.

“My apologies, cadet. Have you seen Cadet Data anywhere? It’s not like an android to be absent from class.”

“We were just wondering the same thing ourselves. We haven’t seen him. You haven’t gotten any word about an absence?”

“No,” the instructor muttered, puzzled. “When’s the last time anyone’s seen him?”

“Cadet La Forge went on a date with him Friday night, sir,” Lyra offered. Geordi didn’t think he could glare daggers intently enough into her. While he wasn’t _ashamed,_ it wasn’t exactly something he wanted to tell the militaristic middle-aged Andorian instructor. “And that’s the last anyone has heard from him, except for maybe his roommate.”

“I see. I’ll have to look up his personnel files and contact the roommate. It’s unusual for a synthetic being to make a living error. Thank you both, cadets.”

As the instructor went away, Geordi looked towards Lyra in concern. He couldn’t think of a single rational explanation for Data being absent from class, unless Data really had gotten sick of Starfleet for some reason or another. But he’d seen him just on Friday, and Data had been fine. More than fine. Kissing him.

He watched the cadets shuffle out of the classroom, noting that Korlack – with a furtive look towards Geordi – was the last to exit.

***

It was 7:14 PM on a Friday night, and Geordi was standing at the edge of a forest with Talia.

They were both wearing away team gear – not that this was, even technically speaking, an away team mission – and staring at the darkened forest ahead of them. The Starfleet Academy campus had acres of these trees, which made for pleasant enough walking trails during the day but turned terrifying at night. If Geordi experienced fear, it wasn’t for himself, because they still hadn’t heard from Data.

Monday, he’d first noticed that Data was gone.

Tuesday, nothing.

Wednesday, he learned from Jorge, who heard from so-and-so’s friend this-or-that that Data’s roommate reported that he hadn’t seen him Friday night at all.

Thursday, the news went public on Starfleet campus that Cadet Data was missing. A search party quickly erupted, organized primarily by Talia, Geordi, and various Starfleet officials.

And now, it was Friday, and they had split into teams. Geordi grimly looked at the sector in front of him. The actual professionals, _enlisted officers,_ were the ones doing the ‘real work’ – reviewing camera footage and talking to potential witnesses. He couldn’t help but feel like they’d shifted manual searching towards the cadets just to make them feel better, without any real hope that they’d find anything. Then again, they were the people with the skills and the resources – why _shouldn’t_ they put in the more promising work?

Everyone had been given a section of San Francisco. As luck would have it, Geordi and Talia got one of the national preserve of redwood trees. It’d only been included on the list because he’d heard Data talk about it once in scientific admiration. Geordi had, once upon a time, included it as a possible date location if Data was interested.

He didn’t even think that it was something _he_ did to Data, anymore. If there was one positive development in all this, it was that Geordi didn’t think he was capable of fucking up a date badly enough for the other party to go missing.

No, this was too severe for one bad date. Now, Geordi was absolutely convinced something had happened to Data. Something bad. Maybe he was deactivated and thrown under a tree somewhere. Maybe someone had caught up to him. Geordi knew plenty of people who would want to hurt him ( _Kagrin and Korlack came to mind, and Geordi had noticed that they were suspiciously absent from the search party),_ but how many people could actually accomplish that? Data was a brick wall.

_He did let people try to pour acid down his throat, Geordi. He’s too trusting. Always has been. Don’t kid yourself._

Mostly at Talia’s pushing, Geordi had reported Kagrin and Korlack to those officially in charge of investigating Data’s absence. He laid things out in detail, both the incident at the party and the incident with the acid. And, to their credit, they had written it down. Geordi just hadn’t appreciated the tone of _why didn’t you report this earlier_ and _I’m pretty sure we have nothing to worry about there._

He didn’t think they were the ones to do it, not _really,_ just like he didn’t think they were the ones who destroyed the warp core. There was being an asshole and being a monster and sure, sometimes the two overlapped, but sometimes they didn’t.

Geordi was exhausted. He hadn’t stayed up last night, but he had a particularly vivid dream instead for his trouble. In the dream, Data had just been walking back from his date. Instead of returning to his dormitory and pretending to sleep in front of a standoffish roommate, he had taken a walk in the woods. The redwood preserve, actually, where they were just standing.

He had sat on a stump to think of the date, and hadn’t noticed _It_ looming behind him.

And, in the dream, Geordi had imagined a Big Bad. The features were indiscernible, but somehow, Geordi knew _– knew ! –_ deep down that it was the same person who had sabotaged the warp core. Some elusive, shadowy figure that only cared for destruction … and really had it out for Data, besides.

It had slunk towards Data, nothing more than a dark shadow on the ground. And it had ripped him apart. Data hadn’t even fought back. When the dream had ended, Geordi could see him scattered around the trail like a busted toaster.

Geordi had woken up sweating.

It hadn’t been a helpful dream. Talia walked forward on the trail with him. A second passed and she picked up a large stick, the relative shape and diameter of a baseball bat, and rested it against her shoulder.

“What, you gonna hit someone with that thing?” He asked listlessly.

Talia turned around and gave him a thousand-watt smile. “Maybe! If I need to.” The forest started to engulf them as they walked further. Geordi was working mostly off of night-vision, now, something that Talia didn’t have – and so, he took the lead. They walked a few hundred feet further in silence, with Geordi routinely sweeping his head around to look at the area. Nothing synthetic stood out to him. One benefit was that any mechanical bits would have been easily discernible through the trees.

The question of the hour – _Are we looking for Data, or are we looking for parts?_

He could work with either. Someone on this campus had to know how to put back together. God damn it, if only he still had Data’s files, then he would put Data back together _himself._

Geordi kept scanning, almost mechanically, through the trees. Nothing. He walked forward. Someone would have to know where he went. Data just couldn’t disappear. Or leave. _He wouldn’t._

“How are you doing?” A chipper voice blurted at his elbow, and Geordi jumped a foot.

Talia was beside him, more-or-less being guided by him in the dark forest. “Jesus, Talia, if I have a heart attack out here, I’m just gonna die. They’re not gonna get me help in time.”

“Thought we could talk about this, since they’re giving us busy work and we’re not going to find something.”

Geordi felt that in his soul, but somehow it felt more depressing to say it out loud. “Um,” he offered. “I’m doing – it’s not like we were married, or anything.”

“But?”

But. “I’ve moved on from – from thinking that I just screwed up the date, somehow. I just haven’t been able to get it out of my head that something really, really bad happened to him.” Geordi swallowed. It felt good, to have a task scanning the forest, even if he knew it was useless. “That he’s just deactivated, somewhere.”

“And you’re worried about him.”

“Yeah, but it’s _more_ than that. Talia, even if I didn’t – you know, even if I didn’t like the guy. I genuinely believe Data’s a – he’s one of a kind. He’s selfless, and enthusiastic, and he never gives up on _anyone._ Nobody deserves something like this, but Data’s had to put up with so much _bullshit_ from those two assholes – “

“Kagrin and Korlack? Yeah.” Talia’s voice was grim. “Have they given him any trouble recently?”

“Not since the – not since a while ago, no. But you know what I mean.”

“Do you think they had anything to do with this?”

“… No?” Geordi knew he didn’t sound certain. “Talia. Come on. Korlack’s spineless and Kagrin is a douchebag, but this is – this would be _kidnapping._ You know? Kind of a different league.”

“Well, I don’t know. If they don’t see Data as a person, it’s not really _kidnapping,_ is it?” Talia jumped on a stump and looked down at him. “Plenty of people don’t see Data as a person. It’d be, like, theft. Max.”

“It’s not like I have any proof. Okay, Talia, say I go to the commanders tomorrow and _really_ insist that I think Kagrin or Korlack took Data somewhere. Then _they_ waste resources trying to find out something that could be nothing, and … the _real_ person who took Data might still be somewhere out there. No.” Geordi shook his head. “I don’t know a lot about his past, either. It could be some sort of crazy scientist, or someone who thinks technology has gone too far, or –”

“Now you’re just listing holovid villains.”

“We’re just _cadets!”_ Geordi eventually insisted, throwing his arms out in the air in frustration. “These people have decades worth of experience! I’m not going to just – start stirring up bullshit because I have a hunch.”

His voice was raising, and Geordi quickly quieted it. He didn’t want to start a fight. Talia shrugged her shoulders on the stump. “You know I don’t agree with that.” She pushed herself off and kept walking forward, flashlight clenched tightly in her hand. “And, for the record, I don’t think most of humanity would agree with that, either. You guys are _known_ for your hunches. Most of your major discoveries have been accidents.”

“Then maybe we’re just lucky,” Geordi sighed in exhaustion, rubbing the back of his neck. He performed another quick scan of the forest. Nothing in immediate sight. “And for Data’s sake – I could really use some of that right now.”

***

It was weird to think that Geordi had once thought of this day so fondly. It was going to be _romantic,_ Geordi had once told himself. Close quarters with his boyfriend on the shuttle, actually seeing the stars, even if it was only for a few hours. Maybe he’d covertly hold Data’s hand while on the shuttle, though he had had a suspicion that the android wouldn’t go for that. He was, above all, professional.

Now, Geordi was dog-tired and it was only 9 AM.

The searches had turned up nothing. If the commanders had found something, they hadn’t exactly shared it with the cadets. And, as far as Geordi knew, Data was just as gone now as he was ten days ago.

He would never admit it to anyone (not even his mother), but he’d cried about it last night. Not knowing was the worst part. Even if Data was durable … that didn’t mean anything if Data never got _home._

But there were still academic obligations. Which was why Geordi was sitting inside of the shuttle, knees spread and leaning forward. His eyes (strained, burning already) were trained on the floor. He hadn’t spoken a word since he’d gotten in, and why would he? The only two people in the shuttle besides himself was Kagrin, who was dicking around by the pilot controls, and a second year communications cadet that Geordi had never met before. Even if his choices were different, Geordi wouldn’t talk to anyone. They were supposed to have another – Data – and it looked like they weren’t going to replace him. That was fine. These shuttles usually seated two, anyway, and they were cramped to begin with.

It was just a few hours. Then he could go home and sleep and pull himself together. _Call your Ma,_ Geordi told himself weakly. _She’ll talk some sense into you. That’s all you need right now. Sense. What would you do, if Data came back tomorrow and found you moping?_

He’d probably express concern, actually, and apologize for worrying him so much. All the more reason to pull it together.

Geordi groaned in the back of his throat, causing the communication cadet to send him a look of concern. “’m fine,” he muttered and waved them off.

There was a commotion going on outside of the shuttle. Muffled, arguing voices. All three cadets raised their head to look up at the shut door in confusion. The hydraulics hissed as it slid open, revealing the fourth and final member of their expedition.

Data stood there, silhouetted against the light from outside.

 _What the_ _ **fuck.**_ Geordi’s mouth dropped open silently, and the instructor stepped into the light next to Data. She rose her hand and placed it on Data’s back, but it wasn’t a friendly gesture. Indeed, it seemed that she was only quietly restraining her frustration.

“Cadet _Data_ has made an appearance for us,” she announced stiffly. “While I’ve told him that he will be chastised _very, very severely_ after, he seems insistent that he resume his academic duties and _will not budge, despite a direct order_.” Data didn’t respond. His eyes weren’t trained on anyone in particular, but instead the gray metal of the shuttle interior. They seemed unfocused. And – Geordi knew that it was ridiculous to say – he seemed stiff. “Go on, cadet. You _will_ be speaking to the Admiralty after.”

Data took a step forward into the shuttle. He didn’t seem hurt in any way. The uniform he was wearing was clearly new and crisp. For all intents and purposes, it looked like he’d come straight from home.

An awkward silence settled over everyone in the shuttle. Geordi’s eyes flicked from Data, to Kagrin, to the communications cadet, before he repeated the cycle. Eventually, he knew he had to say something.

Unfortunately, it all came out at once. To hell with professionalism, and to hell with dignity.

He lept to his feet and marched up to Data. “Data, what the _hell?_ Where have you _been?”_

“Out.” Data looked at him, but only just.

“Out _where.”_

“I do not believe you are required to know that. Cadet Tizer, are we ready to depart?”

Everyone turned to face Kagrin. Tossing his blond curls from his face, he looked towards everyone and then to Data. “I know it might be a bit tense,” he mentioned with a charming flash of teeth, “But let’s just have a good shuttle run, okay? Everyone man your stations.”

Data went to the operations panel, half-blocking Geordi’s path to the navigation seat at the front of the ship. The communications cadet went to the radio. And suddenly, Geordi felt like he was the only person fuming in the middle of the shuttle. He wasn’t going to drop this. How could he? How could everyone else pretend that this was _fine?_ Because he was an android and his loss didn’t mean that much anyway?

“ _Data.”_ He marched over to the operations cadet and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve been losing my _mind_ with worry since you’ve been gone. And now you just show up? Are you _kidding_ me? We just – “

Data interrupted him, face pinched. “I have been patient so far with you, Cadet La Forge. But if you continue with your harassment of me, I will report you to the Admiralty.”

“ _Harassment!?”_ Geordi could’ve gawped, but Data didn’t elaborate. “Is that what all this has been to you? _Harassment?”_ Data’s eyes were glued to the operation’s panel, now, and Geordi’s fingers tightened on his shoulder. He was about to give Data a _piece of his mind,_ because what the _hell._ “Well, excuse _me,_ but –”

“Geordi.” Kagrin’s hand was on his shoulder, light and reassuring. “I’m sorry about all this, man, seriously. But – we gotta get going.” The hand on his shoulder shifted to an arm around his back, gently leading him to the navigational seat. “Look, I get it. I do. It’s really easy to think he’s just like us. I mean, he’s so lifelike. But you know he’s just a robot. He doesn’t feel things like humans do.”

“It’s not like that,” Geordi disagreed, but his voice was quiet. “I know – I mean. I thought I knew.”

“It’s okay. Let’s just get through the shuttle simulation.”

It was a far cry from the cadet he’d seen trying to pour acid down Data’s windpipe, but Geordi wasn’t going to push it too far. He was even more tired than he’d been previously, and now he was fighting back tears. Sliding into the navigational console, Geordi stared up at the bright blue sky.

He could focus on work. He could focus on work, and _not_ think about the fact that his boyfriend ( _ex-boyfriend?)_ was standing a few feet behind him at an operations console. It was just … insanity, wasn’t it? But at the end of the day, how much did he really know about Data? He’d known the guy for a few months, maximum, and he hadn’t actually spoken to him for most of that time. He didn’t know how Data worked, really. He didn’t know how much Data felt. Data had even admitted that he wouldn’t be capable of _feeling_ anything, so why would Geordi expect that the guy had a soft spot for him?

For a while, it worked. The shuttle took off spectacularly, and Geordi received a familiar rush of adrenaline as the blue sky faded away into a different shade. Space. He piloted the shuttle just enough to get a full view of Earth, far below them. That always filled him with a warm, peaceful sensation. Kagrin and the communications cadet clustered around the navigational chair, watching it for themselves. It was beautiful.

_Standing with Data, watching the bright blue marble of Earth, reaching over to hold his hand –_

Geordi’s shoulders slumped. “Alright, guys, we have to meet the checkpoint. Back to your stations.”

“Ha! Trying to switch to Command, Geordi?” Kagrin amicably pat his shoulder before agreeing to his command.

“Yeah, yeah.” Hands folded over the wheel, Geordi turned until the command center was in their sights. He just had to fly up there, make a quick stop, and then they were back down. And then he’d get to deal with Earth problems. Earth problems like a crazy ex-boyfriend being thrown out of the Academy, probably. He frowned.

There was a hand at his shoulder. Geordi recognized the touch, often enough. “What do you want, Data,” he grunted.

The touch didn’t move. Instead, Data tightened his grip into something painful. He let out a hurt whine and pushed himself away from the grip, staring up at Data. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Data was staring down at him mindlessly, something particularly blank in his deep yellow eyes. It was like looking into a statue’s eyes.

Geordi was just about sick of it. Now, Data had even interrupted the momentary snatch of peace he’d gathered from space. Data had taken that away from him.

Data had treated him like some sort of sucker, and Geordi had fallen for it. Let himself get manipulated by an _android,_ a heap of parts all pulled together. It was like when little kids thought shipboard computers _cared_ about them.

He unbuckled himself and stood from his chair, anger pumping through his veins. Throwing his arms out to the side, Geordi asked in exasperation, “What do you _want_ from me, scrap metal?”

The other two cadets were staring at them both, now. Geordi saw Kagrin take a step forward. He waved him off apologetically. When he received no response from the android, Geordi was about to go back and sit down, before Data’s fingers closed around his throat.

It had happened so quickly that Geordi hadn’t even seen Data’s arm reach out. One second, he could breathe normally. Another, Data had one hand pressed against his windpipe. Geordi quickly fumbled backwards, but soon the cold metal reached his back. He had nowhere to go.

“ _Grrk,”_ he got out, but it was the most he could manage. No air was getting in him. Desperately, Geordi tried to kick at Data’s legs, but it did nothing but make the grip at his neck worse.

_Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe._

He looked up at Data, trying to find some sort of answer. Both arms went out to slam against Data’s chest, stomach, shoulders, neck, wherever he could to try and get some sort of _release._ He received nothing but bruises for his trouble. Data’s face was blank – except then it wasn’t, and Geordi could slowly, slowly see his lip raise into a silent snarl. It wasn't smooth - rather like watching a gear _click-click-click_ into place.

Fear flooded him. Every single cell in his body.

Geordi’s gaze searched to the back of the shuttle. The communications cadet was cowering in the back, but Kagrin looked like he was about to take action.

Some of the strength in Geordi’s body started to leave him, his brain becoming unreactive and slow. There were no black spots on his vision, yet, until – _no, that’s just your eyes closing,_ Geordi thought to himself wearily, _not going to be like the holovids, where you see black spots. That’s not how the VISOR works._

His hands stilled on Data’s chest, until they fell limply at his sides.

The last thing Geordi was aware of before his eyes slid shut entirely was Kagrin rushing forward, throwing one arm around Data’s neck. Data seemed to react, grunting in … _pain?_

 _That’s weird,_ Geordi thought fuzzily, _Data doesn’t feel pain._

And then he thought nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> data! no murder!
> 
> Another early morning update on this busy Sat morning! Thanks to all who've read/commented/left kudos, I really do appreciate hearing everyone's thoughts on the story. See you next Sat!


	13. Discovery

“Oh – it looks like he’s just waking up, Commander La Forge. Do you want me to pass you over to him?”

Geordi blinked awake slowly, uncertain and weak in his movements. He was sore. Every part of him felt sore. From instinct, Geordi fumbled a hand over and found his VISOR before reattaching it to his temples. Better, though still not great. He looked over towards the nearest viewscreen – oh. Space. They were in space. He supposed that it’d been quicker for the shuttle to fly to the nearest station than back to Earth (there was something to be said about not having to deal with atmospheric changes, after all). The command center had a small sickbay installed in it, and Geordi figured that was where they’d brought him. He wondered how urgent his medical care had been.

Thinking of that made the entire situation come back to him. Data’s hands around his neck … the cold, menacing look in his eyes … Kagrin throwing his arms around the android’s neck in an attempt to drag him off. More than anything, Geordi remembered the pain. He remembered feeling how flimsy his neck was compared to Data’s hands, and _Jesus,_ why did organic beings have to be that fragile?

More importantly ...

 _Kagrin saved my life?_ Geordi thought to himself. _But how?_ _Data is Data, and Kagrin’s just a Human guy._

That was banished from his head when a small computer was placed in front of him by the nurse. The blue light from it seemed more intense than usual, but Geordi still saw his father’s face, full of concern and worry. He instinctively pulled his uniform a bit higher around his neck, but what was that going to do at this point?

“Hey, Pop.” Geordi mumbled. _Yikes. Scratchy._ He reached for a glass of water on the nightstand, taking a few long sips of it. The liquid seemed to ooze like syrup down his throat. “I’m okay.”

His eyes had drifted half-shut from exhaustion ( _they’ve definitely given me something,_ Geordi thought blearily), but when he opened them again, he saw his father was struck frozen with … fear, probably. It couldn’t have been easy to see your son like this. For that matter, it was hard to see his _dad_ like that. Pop’s mouth was hanging open from the shock. Pop never did well with tense situations. His mother was a natural-born crisis management leader; Pop seemed to hit the pause button while his brain accelerated to a thousand miles an hour. Geordi suddenly wished they hadn’t told him a thing. He couldn’t imagine what his mom thought of all this.

“Really. I’m okay. I’m alive. Just a little sore.” He bent his neck to the side so that the nurse could hypospray him, and even that residual soreness started to go away. “Still pretty,” he tried to joke. It was offered simultaneously with a grin, which probably looked more like a grimace.

A warm compress was pressed around his neck, connected by wire to a large metal box. An instrument for contusions – it could detect broken blood vessels under the skin and repair them, all without puncturing. Geordi knew how to build one, theoretically, but he’d never seen it in action. It was a tickly massage.

“Starfleet is gathering an official report based on the cameras in the shuttle, but … Geordi, what _happened?_ I heard the android did this to you. Your mother told me that he was missing.”

“He … was. Yeah. He was missing. He showed up out of the blue to go on the training exercise, I’ve got no idea why.” The memory flickered through his mind, seeing Data standing in the doorway of the metal shuttle. “I wish I could give you a better answer, Pop, but I don’t know why he did this. He was a little cold on the shuttle, but not aggressive. Distant, I guess? Right up until he – you know.” Geordi gestured up towards his neck. “I must’ve passed out. Do you know what happened after that?”

“One of the cadets incapacitated the android and piloted the shuttle up to the command center. You could have been _killed,_ Geordi.”

He didn’t want to focus on _that._ At all. Geordi squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to think that his future illustrious career in Starfleet could’ve been cut short by strangulation on a training mission. “No, no. That doesn’t make sense. Data’s power output is – he could take apart that entire shuttle with his hands. Kagrin didn’t have any weapons on him, and he’s Human. How could he incapacitate _Data?”_

Geordi knew his father loved him. He showed him, so many times, on so many occasions. But they were both too alike. When they found a technical problem to focus on – it was _all_ they could focus on. As Geordi shifted concern away from himself and towards the problem at hand, he sat back to think about it. Some of the worry melted from his face while Pop went over any possible way Kagrin could’ve taken _Data_ out.

Frankly, Geordi was grateful for it. He hated people worrying about him, especially his parents. He never felt more like his dad than when they were thinking together. “Are you sure about Data’s power output? Do you have his schematics?”

“I do!” Geordi answered, relief flooding him, before it was overwhelmed by despair. “Wait. No. They were on the PADD that got stolen from me a little while ago, but I memorized the basics. There’s no way any human should be able to take him out.” Geordi shifted himself into a sitting-up position, trying not to focus on the tickling sensation at his throat. The bed was really very soft, and if he kept lying down too much longer, he would’ve went right to sleep. “Did they say anything about where he’s being held? Where is Data now?”

“According to what I was told, they incapacitated him and they’re holding him in a cell at the center. To be transported back to the Academy for a court martial when his shuttle arrives. Geordi, why would that cadet be able to take down Data? For that matter, this is the young man you went on a date with – “

“Why would he want to choke me?” _That_ started to set in. Beyond Kagrin’s near physical impossibility, there was the _emotional_ impossibility on Data’s end. Data, who hadn’t fought back against anyone, hadn’t shown even an inkling of violence towards _anyone,_ who couldn’t bring himself to hate _anyone,_ had decided to kill him _._ Geordi was positive he hadn’t done anything worse to him than what Kagrin and Korlack had already done.

 _But you know, he’s just a robot._ Kagrin’s voice echoed in his ears. And robots could malfunction. Couldn’t they? Geordi couldn’t imagine any starship wanting a crewmember that could go postal at any second.

“I’ve – Pop,” Geordi muttered in shock, before shaking his head. He couldn’t think and talk to Pop at the same time. “I have to figure something out.” Now, it was little more than a conspiracy theory in the back of his head, but if he just had time to … think. “I promise I’ll call you later. Tell Ma I’m okay. And Ariana, if she – if she knows. If she doesn’t, don’t tell her. Okay?”

His father had gone silent again, clearly working this own little technical problem in his head, too. The tension was temporarily banished from Geordi’s mind, replaced by a genuine smile. _They really were too alike._ “Earth to Planet Pop?”

His father looked up at him in surprise, and then smiled back identically. “I’ll let them know. I’m … so glad you’re okay. Let us know the _moment_ you figure anything out. We love you, Geordi, and we’re worried about you.”

“I know. Don’t be.” Reaching for the warm compress against his neck, Geordi pulled it back an inch. Looking at himself in the mirror, he saw that the bruising had already healed somewhat. Unlike the plasticky regenerated skin, this felt more natural. “I’m always fine. I just have to figure this out.”

And he would. Because when he thought of the android that had attacked him, had choked him, would’ve _killed_ him without Kagrin’s intervention – he didn’t think of the android who he’d held hands with, who had kissed so gently, who had quietly admitted to him that Geordi was the main reason he had stayed in the Academy.

Geordi just couldn’t believe that those two were the same guy. And he would be damned if he didn’t find out why.

-

He’d been sitting in the conference room for over thirty minutes, and was starting to get impatient. Geordi had given his statement calmly to the board of Admiralty sitting in front of them, speaking with much more confidence than he’d felt. At least his voice had more or less gotten back to normal. They’d probably take pity on him if a weak, sore cadet came and hoarsely delivered his side of the story.

They’d gotten back to planet Earth earlier yesterday, and Geordi had gotten some much needed rest. In a way, though, he was grateful to be out of his room again. He hadn’t slept well last night, looking over files, and the strain from his VISOR had given him a headache. This situation was _too_ weird, too unusual, and being stuck alone with his thoughts hadn’t proved helpful.

Well, his thoughts and a semi-ironic _Get Well Soon!_ Balloon that he’d received from his friends.

Kagrin was sitting to his right, hands folded in front of him. Impossible to tell how bothered he was by what had happened, because his blond hair always looked casually disheveled in a roguish sort of way. He had some dark circles under his eyes, but what cadet didn’t?

The cadet had been surprisingly … _nice?_ Even if the bruises had long since been healed now, Kagrin was still treating him gently. He’d expressed his sympathy, asked him if he could get Geordi dinner, told him that he’d blamed himself for what happened. As commanding cadet of the shuttle, he should’ve known when they had a security risk aboard. It was practically running down the checklist of what a commanding officer should do, even if he had just been one for the exercise.

 _Known what,_ Geordi wanted to ask. _Known that Data was going to go absolutely nuts?_

He had refused all of his offers to spend time together outside of classes. Maybe Kagrin wasn’t as bad of a guy as Geordi had previously thought, but he was still a gigantic dickhead and it’d take a lot more than saving his life for Geordi to change his mind about _that._ It would be a cold day in hell before he made friends with a Command-track cadet (Talia, of course, excluded).

Kagrin had similarly given his statement. Nothing there surprised Geordi; it gave even less information than Geordi’s own had. The Admirals had quietly asked Geordi if he would prefer to leave the room while they reviewed the tape, and Geordi had steadfastly said that he would be fine here, thank you.

He sort of wished that he’d left the room, in retrospect.

The footage of the shuttle didn’t help how _bizarre_ the situation was. One moment, Data was standing in front of the terminal, looking listless but otherwise non-aggressive. Geordi saw that he wasn’t actually _reading_ anything on the terminal. No movement on his eyes. In the footage, Geordi could hardly use the settings on his VISOR to examine what was going on in that body of his, but he could see from here that Data wasn’t evilly rubbing his hands together and planning his next big move.

The next, he was walking over to Geordi, the same detached expression. They shared some words. Geordi wasn’t proud of the venom with which he spat an insult at him.

And then Geordi was being held up by his neck, his feet kicking at Data uselessly. Kagrin tackled Data, one arm around his neck as he physically yanked Data off of him. Geordi crumpled to the floor, unconscious, as Kagrin subdued the android, barking orders for restraints from the other cadets.

 _That_ _just doesn’t make sense!_ Geordi’s mind screamed at him. _Data’s a strong guy. Kagrin’s not small, but he wouldn’t be able to beat Data in hand-to-hand like that._ Geordi had felt Data’s strength first hand when he’d been lifted up by his neck, after all. And, for that matter, if Data wanted him dead – he could’ve just crunched his neck up like a tin can and been done with it. Choking him out had been slow.

The entire situation was just … weird. Data’s sudden reappearance, the assault – it didn’t _sit right_ with him.

He heard the door to the room open. The first thing that Geordi saw were the two security guards, one a bulky Klingon and the other an impressively built Human, both guiding … Data. They had a grip on either arm that looked painful.

Geordi quickly dropped his gaze to the table.

One of the Admirals – Zheng, Geordi remembered her name – cleared her throat. “Thank you for attending, Cadet Data. We are starting an investigation into this most egregious offense.”

He continued looking at the table as he heard Data sit down across from them. Geordi dared to glance upwards, only to find Data’s eyes boring holes into him. He couldn’t look away. Data was not being subtle about it at all; it made Geordi uncomfortable. His neck felt like it was itching. “What do you have to say for yourself, cadet? Abandoning your duties and then attacking a fellow cadet? What motive could you possibly have had for that?”

“Are you okay, man?” Geordi heard Kagrin ask the question to him, softly, placing one hand on his shoulder. He had ducked his head to make an illusion of privacy. “You don’t have to be here.”

“No. No, I’m okay, thanks,” he mumbled back.

Data didn’t respond to the question. Admiral Zheng cleared her throat severely. “ _Cadet?”_

Data was still _staring_ at him. Glaring. He’d never seen Data look at _anything_ with that amount of hatred before. But that was the look Data was giving him – dark, and black, and full of absolute _rage._ His nostrils flared in anger. It was a perfectly synthesized homicidal range. A verifiable weapon.

Admiral Zheng looked over at Geordi, attempting a different angle. “Cadet La Forge? Could you clarify the situation at all?”

“I wish I could, Admiral. I have absolutely no idea. I don’t know where he went, why he …” Geordi’s throat was dry. Kagrin passed over a glass of water to him, the sound gliding across the table. “I don’t know.”

“Perhaps it’s a flaw in his programming, sir?” Kagrin threw out the theory. “Maybe he went out somewhere, got damaged, and it’s changed him somehow. I mean, he’s not Human. He doesn’t have the same morality like we do – it’s all built in.”

“It’s possible. We could have the Engineering run a full scan on him, determine where the malfunction occurred. It’s worrying that a malfunction _this_ severe is possible, though.”

A confident but distant smile grew on Kagrin’s face. “You know technology, sir. Fallible. I only wish poor Cadet La Forge didn’t have to experience the fallout. Can you imagine something like that happening on a starship? Someone might not be a foot or so away.”

“Yes. Cadet,” Admiral Zheng told him, “We _are_ deeply apologetic for what occurred, and will do what we must to seek justice for it.”

Geordi’s hand went up to his throat. _Starfleet always has risks involved,_ he thought dimly in the back of his mind, but he knew that wasn’t true. Starfleet had risks, sure, but this wasn’t a _risk._ This was a fellow cadet trying to kill him with no rhyme or reason. That shouldn’t be something people had to _worry_ about while trying to do their job.

He flicked through the filters in his VISOR. There was nothing immediately apparent about Data’s mechanics – but, on the other hand, Data’s inner workings were so complex and linked together that he couldn’t do much more than a cursory view. Fluid was definitely being pumped in there. There was a massive power output in his positronic brain. Nothing seemed immediately wrong.

“It’s okay, sir,” he found himself saying instead, which wasn’t much better. “I’m still up and around. Not like I’m dea –”

“ _Dead!”_ Data suddenly shrieked from his spot on the chair, the hatred in his eyes turning violent. The eruption came with such violence, _brutality,_ that everyone in the room jumped in their chairs. The words were high enough to be hysterical. He suddenly surged forward, easily overtaking the guards’ strength and wrenching away. “ _Dead dead dead dead!”_ Data stood up from the chair. At first, he looked as if he wanted to climb on top of the table to get to Geordi – until his arm twitched downward. As easily as if he were breaking Styrofoam, Data’s fist crashed down into the conference table. “ _I want him dead!”_ The conference table cracked in two with an ear-splitting noise.

Terrified, Geordi scrambled up from his chair and went backwards. Kagrin mimicked his movements, grabbing Geordi’s wrist. He looked at his fellow cadet: there was real fear in his eyes, and none of that fierce determination he’d witnessed in the shuttle. Kagrin was _scared._ Geordi looked towards the door, but he would have to overcome a _very_ homicidal android to do it.

“ _Guards!”_ Admiral Zheng’s voice sailed shrilly over the room, and the security officers lept into action. Data had climbed on top of the broken table, taking an unsteady step forward to pursue … _him!_

The Klingon raised his phaser at Data. Data didn’t seem to react to being aimed at. The beam of energy shot across the room, impacting Data directly in the back. Whatever power it was, it was enough.

Data’s body went stiff, his face completely slack. It was so _surreal_ to watch such anger, the sort of anger that powered a man for an entire lifetime, drip away from his face. He toppled over like a wooden blank, hitting the edge of the table with a loud thud. Something cracked deep inside him, echoing around the quiet conference room. As soon as he made contact, the human security officer sprang over to him and ran his hand around his lower back – _deactivation button,_ Geordi thought dimly. He flicked through his VISOR settings. Completely powered down.

Then, it was over.

Kagrin was hugging him.

Geordi was stunned by the situation, and at first didn’t respond. His arms were out at his sides as he looked at Data’s deactivated body on the floor. Blood rushed in his ears, and it took him a few seconds to realize Kagrin was saying something.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m so – I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” Geordi mumbled. “What for?” He took a step back from the blond cadet, a little wobbly on his feet. Data had wanted to kill him. Not just to choke him, but to actually kill him. He’d been nearly rabid with it.

Kagrin brushed his hands through his hair, looking half-wild. “Don’t – Don’t – sorry. Freaked me out. Are you okay?”

He couldn’t get the picture of Data surging forward, shrieking in a loud, high voice about how he wanted him … dead. Geordi’s entire body shuddered. Still, he walked towards the body on the floor. He picked up the hand. No, Data was definitely deactivated, and a little dented to boot.

Geordi knew he should be scary. He should be thoroughly terrified. And perhaps it would all hit him later, when he was safe in his bed. But this was just so _strange,_ and that was all Geordi could think. He was pretty sure he got that from his dad – a mental inability to let go of a complex problem. He needed to investigate further.

Admiral Zheng had risen from her chair, standing across Data’s body. “Cadet La Forge,” she questioned, her voice turning soft. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, sir. I just don’t understand it.”

“Neither do I. We will have him disassembled in Engineering in order to determine the issue, if there is one. Perhaps …” She crouched, hand manipulating Data’s head this way and that. It moved easily, with some soft whining from the servos. “He has had hostile tendencies before. Perhaps he simply cannot function among Humans. I cannot imagine why he would turn his anger against you, though.”

“I … might have an idea.” Kagrin had pulled himself together, though Geordi noticed that he still gave Data’s body a wide berth. “I don’t know, though.”

Zheng looked up at him. “Yes, cadet?”

“Well, Korlack was telling me – do you remember the first day of Basic Warp Design, Geordi? You showed him up. Maybe he felt like you were a rival.”

Geordi snorted at that. “What, because I answered a question before he did? I don’t think that’s grounds for murder. Besides, Data isn’t competitive. Never has been.”

“You’re bringing Human morality into it, though. He doesn’t have that. Maybe he just thought you were a rival to be eliminated. You can’t predict what his little positronic brain will spit out. And wait,” Kagrin continued, “Wasn’t he the only one with you when you stopped that warp drive from exploding? You could’ve been killed there!”

“It would explain why someone would sabotage the warp drive at all,” Admiral Zheng hypothesized quietly. “And if Kagrin is correct, and his morality programming is compromised – then it would explain why he was willing to risk the lives of so many just to threaten yours.”

Geordi shook his head, emphatic. “ _No._ Data wasn’t like that. If he wanted to kill me, he had plenty of other opportunities.” The night when Geordi had actually fallen asleep in front of him loomed heavily. He could’ve choked him out at any time. “It just doesn’t make sense. Look, Data and I are _friends._ ” The tense didn’t hit him. “He hasn’t been sitting on this, waiting for the right time.”

“I know you liked him, Geordi, but …” Kagrin trailed off, wordless. He picked up Data’s hand and dropped it, where it landed on the floor with a distinctly inhuman sound. Still, Geordi had to bite back a retort to be careful.

Admiral Zheng stood up. “Perhaps Engineering will provide some clarity to the situation. Lieutenants,” she offered, waving towards Data. The Klingon security officer scooped him up with a grunt of exertion and, as if they were carrying a package, headed off. Admiral Zheng flanked them, leaving Kagrin and Geordi alone in the conference room.

Kagrin’s hand patted his back comfortingly, but Geordi’s head was ticking. Something was _wrong_ here. Something was very, very wrong, and he couldn’t help but feel that Data had been the butt of a very, very bad joke. It just wasn’t very funny. “You sure you’re okay? You’re zoning out a little.”

“Yeah. Yeah, just,” Geordi shook his head, pressing his fingers against his forehead. “Think I need some rest. I’ll talk to you later.” He moved away from Kagrin’s hand and exited the conference room, stumbling through the corridors as if in a daze. His dormitory. Yes, he did need to sleep this off, and maybe it would make more sense later.

 _You can’t predict what his little positronic brain will spit out,_ Geordi thought to himself in memory. _His little positronic brain._

How did _Kagrin_ know what kind of brain Data had?

It was not precisely public information, even if Kagrin was a secret android aficionado. Geordi only knew … well, he’d known for three reasons. One, he’d been able to see it with the VISOR, on their first day in class. Kagrin definitely didn’t have that. Two, Data had told him on a few occasions, but he didn’t see Kagrin having a couple of heart-to-hearts with the man. And third, of course, Data’s schematics would show everything, but that was only on Geordi’s PADD.

Geordi’s stolen PADD, missing since the warp drive breach.

Behind his VISOR, Geordi’s eyes widened.

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun dunnnnn  
> As always, thanks all for reading/kudos-ing/commenting your thoughts! I love reading all of them and seeing where we're at. This is by far the longest daforge thing I've written (estimating about 70k when it's all said and done X.X) and the encouragement is lovely. See you next Sat!


	14. Korlack's Room

“You act like this is your first time breaking into a dorm,” Matt remarked cavalierly, on his knees in front of a computer panel. Jorge was peering over his shoulder inquisitively like he was watching a sportsgame. “Seriously. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“We could get discharged from Starfleet for breaking into Korlack’s dorm. No, hang on, we could probably get arrested for burglary.” Geordi muttered uncomfortably, glancing over his shoulder at the two boys behind him. “Why are _you_ the one doing this? I’m the engineer here.”

“What can I say? I need the practice.”

Jorge patted Matt’s shoulder and looked up at Geordi. “You know, that’s not the _worst_ thing that could happen. Korlack strikes me _exactly_ like the type who’d rig some sort of lethal booby trap in his room. You could walk in and, _psssh.”_ The miming motion he made was both disturbing and unrealistic.

Geordi raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s that coming out of my neck? Blood? What, he’s just going to have a big knife come down and decapitate me so blood will spurt out of my neck. That’s what you’re saying will happen.”

“Come on. Korlack would _so_ be the guy!”

“Yeah, okay.” Still, Jorge’s easygoing attitude had Geordi relaxing, even somewhat. He pressed his hands against his face and took a deep breath. In, out. If Geordi’s suspicion was correct, then this was well worth the regulation breach. Besides, right now, he had to keep lookout to make sure that nobody came around the corner and saw Matt trying to break the computer lock to someone’s dorm.

One side of the wall in his dorm was covered by what Geordi was tentatively calling _evidence._ Last night, he, Talia, Lyra, Matt, and Jorge had gathered together to review it. Geordi figured that he could use the help, because his brain was starting to shut down whenever he so much as looked at it. _I’m eighteen!_ Geordi wanted to shout to the sky. _I’m a first year cadet! I shouldn’t be solving the attempted murder of another cadet!_ And so, the others had been called, because surely five first-year cadets equalled at least one competent person of authority. Before the meeting with the group, Geordi wasn’t even convinced it was anything more than his own biased dislike of Korlack and Kagrin. During, though, everything had started to fit together beautifully.

Korlack and Kagrin. Korlack, the intelligent dickhead Benzite. Kagrin, the charismatic dickhead Human. A partnership made in hell for the express purpose of ruining Data’s life.

They _had_ gone after Data before. If the bucket of oil at the cadet party wasn’t proof enough, Geordi had seen them try and pour acid down his throat with his very own VISOR.

Korlack _had_ been present directly before the warp core breach. The warp core breach hadn’t been technically all that sophisticated – a cadet could have done it, definitely.

Korlack _could_ theoretically reprogram Data, if he had his schematics. The same schematics that were stolen during the warp core breach.

Kagrin _didn’t_ have the strength to take down Data on his own. But if Data was reprogrammed, then he wouldn’t need the strength.

They _didn’t_ think he was anything more than a functioning toaster. Which proved that, at a _minimum,_ they had a closed view of morality.

Still, Geordi had argued in their defense. A devil’s advocate for the two arch-assholes of hell. They had almost caused a warp core breach that could’ve _killed_ people, Geordi included. Sure, maybe they’d kidnapped Data and messed with his brain, but Geordi could have _died_ in that shuttle, or in that conference room, or in the breach, and they knew _he_ was a person. Maybe they didn’t believe Data was a person, but they would have to be psychopaths to be the culprits for _everything._

Talia had simply shrugged her shoulders, popped a piece of popcorn in her mouth, and said that if the shoe fit …

The schematics, they decided, was the key. The entire plan hinged on Korlack reprogramming Data’s hostility protocols. If they could somehow pin Geordi’s PADD theft on Korlack, then everything would fall into place. It would at least be a clue in the right direction.

In front of Geordi now, the door slid open. He could see the inside of Korlack’s room, and no booby traps in sight. His stomach leapt into his throat. _Ma would kill you. Ma would absolutely_ _ **flay**_ _you alive._ This was something that could mean the end of his career, if he were found out. Sure, maybe they’d take it easy on him, but discharge was not exactly an _unreasonable_ outcome.

Then again … Data’s life might very well be at risk. So what choice did he have, really? He wasn’t a hero. He just picked the most decent option.

“Go towards the opposite ends of the corridor. Message me if you see him coming back.” Geordi commanded with more confidence than he truly felt, and Matt and Jorge disappeared to stand guard. He took a breath and stepped inside, feeling both like a spy from a holovid and an unimaginable creep.

At least this was going to be easy. Benzites were notoriously a meticulous, fussy species. Geordi didn’t see an empty can or a discarded trash wrapper in sight. The room was so cold that Geordi was shivering. He stepped inside and looked around. He’d have to be careful – any mess and Korlack was _sure_ to notice it. Thank god there was nothing on his shoes.

The desk was first. Geordi searched through it easily. Nothing more than a few styluses and a few organizers. He turned around. Closet. Geordi was more careful here, delicately parsing through the miscellaneous boxes he found. The clothing replicator was situated carefully, as well as a few extra respirators. A few appeared broken. Clumsy boy.

No PADD of Data’s schematics.

Nightstand was next. Geordi carefully opened it. _Please no condoms please no weird sex things_ _please no porn_ _._ A few various pharmaceutical bottles rolled around on the bottom, as well as a paper journal. He had the urge to flip through it, but restrained himself. _You’re here for the PADD. Even if he made a full confession in there, you don’t know for sure if he did anything._ _You can’t bring the guy’s diary to the Admiralty._ _Let’s not cross that line._

Second drawer. A few extra school supplies, some technological bits and pieces. “Come _on,”_ he muttered, turning around. There was a bookshelf. Geordi didn’t think he could see the PADD on it, but it was worth checking to make sure it wasn’t hiding in a book somewhere. He stepped across the room and started to rifle through the books there, carefully putting them back in their designated place after he was done. The VISOR made everything a little easier, but Geordi wouldn’t feel thorough unless he went through everything manually, too.

His comm buzzed.

_Geordi, he’s in the building._

“Send to Matt. What the hell do you mean, he’s in the building? Is he going to see me if I leave now?” Geordi asked his telecommunicator, frozen in place with a book in his hands.

From outside the shut door, Geordi heard a loud. faked guffaw. “Korlack!” Jorge exclaimed loudly. “Come here, man, it’s been forever! I had _so_ many questions about Benz – “

The snarl that Korlack gave cut Jorge right off. Wow, that sounded _vicious._ It meant that Korlack was in the same hallway as his room, anyway, which meant Geordi had absolutely 0 time to sneak out the usual way.

Geordi looked out the window. Four stories up. Nothing but a flowerbed below. _Not a chance._ He looked around, heart pounding in his chest. “You guys are _useless._ Send to Matt,” Geordi growled into his comm, before he saw the nearest possible opening. God, at least it would buy him some _time._ He dove under the bed, skin sliding painfully across the wooden floor as he curled up into a ball underneath it. His head twisted to look at the bottom of the bed above him.

There, tucked between the slats of the bedframe, was his PADD. Geordi could have cried from relief. Finally, an ounce of luck thrown his way.

Geordi could see his ID number inscribed on it. He wanted to reach up, to take it and hug it close to him and never let it leave his sight again, but the dormitory door slid open before he could do so much as twitch. He held his breath and laid perfectly still.

“I didn’t _know_!” Korlack was half-wailing, half-groaning into his communicator. He stomped inside the dorm and let the door shut behind him. “You said you wanted me to program him to be hostile towards La Forge. I _did._ But he’s complicated! I can’t be expected to be the android expert when I don’t even know everything about him! He’s the only one of his kind!”

There was a creak on the bed above him as Korlack sat down. Geordi stared up, still holding his breath. _Just pretend you’re a dust bunny. Close your eyes. Pretend to be the floor._

“Look, it doesn’t _matter_ now. You’re okay, right? Security took him down, and he’s deactivated. He’ll be disassembled in the engineering labs. You won. What does anything else _matter?”_

Clearly, Kagrin did _not_ like that question. Geordi couldn’t hear exact wording, but there was definitely someone anger at the other end of the line.

“I’m sure Admiral Zheng didn’t see you act like a baby in there. You’ll still get your commendation for saving Geordi’s life back on the shuttle – _stop_ saying that, why do you expect _me_ to do all your dirty work,” he whined. “ _I told you_ that there was a risk the warp core would breach, and you said no, Korlack, it’ll be fine! I could have died!” The bed above him shifted. “Everything worked out!”

More talking, angry and bitter.

“Look, everyone’s talking about you as the guy who saved a cadet from a crazy robot. That’s a lot. That’s _big._ You could thank me a little.”

Short, possibly a swear.

“That’s not very nice. Why should I thank you?” Korlack paused and got off his bed, starting to pace the room. Geordi could see his feet hitting the floor, getting perilously close to the edge of the bed. “Yes, I _know_ it’s not fair that he was here. We just evened it out. A little. But we made the plan together.” A groan. “You want me to go all the way back out to you again? Why? There’s not going to be a _trial_ for him, he’s an android, but – fine. Okay. We’ll get our stories straight. Just in case.”

He walked out towards the door again. “I know,” he murmured, almost in a soft whimper. “I’m scared, too.” The door slid open in front of him and Korlack stepped out. Geordi waited until he could no longer hear his footsteps out the hall. His comm gave him a notification again.

_You’re clear._

Reaching up, Geordi gently pried his PADD from underneath the bedframe and turned it on. There was Data’s schematics, with bookmarks in several places and notes taken here and there. Geordi felt sick to his stomach at the confirmation, but at least he had his answers. And, with his answers, he knew exactly what to do.

“Send to Matt,” Geordi muttered into his comm, rolling out from under his bed. “Take Jorge and tell the others that I found the PADD. I need to get to the engineering labs as soon as I can.”

It was time to be the best goddamn engineer that Starfleet would ever see.


	15. Reunion

This time, it was Lyra on her knees in front of the panel, delicately picking apart the layers with a tool. “Are you sure about this, Geordi?” She asked, fingers moving quickly through the circuitry. Matt watched in awe over her shoulder. He had ceded over rights to open the engineering lab doors when he’d realized how much more complicated they were. “If you accidentally wake Data up, he might try to hurt you. And security won’t be around to help.”

That thought had passed through his mind, maybe one or two or a thousand times. Geordi tried to convince himself that they’d already gone too far. How much worse was breaking into an Engineering lab than breaking into someone’s dorm? And it was all for a good cause, now that Geordi had an actual _confession_ from Korlack. Granted, it hadn’t been recorded and Geordi knew that he would never admit it – but Geordi _knew_ in his goddamn heart what had happened because of it.

Those scheming, selfish, manipulative _fuckers_ had taken his boyfriend, _modified_ him, and set him loose to try and kill him. For, what, a mark on their record? An act of vengeance over a guy they just didn’t like? It was pitiful. It was _pathetic._ Geordi wasn’t a violent guy. He actually had never gotten into a fistfight in his life. But somehow, he now understood why some people did.

Lyra had suggested that they go to the Admiralty immediately, which Geordi had considered. But right now, the only “proof” was Geordi’s word and a PADD, re-stolen from inside of Korlack’s room. Even if Geordi had a commendation on his record, he wasn’t sure if that would be enough.

Besides, right now, justice wasn’t his worry. Later, he’d make sure that Kagrin and Korlack got their just desserts, but right now … he was just worried about Data. Data needed to be fixed, first and foremost.

He just needed to fix Data.

“Green-Skinned Wonder to All-Seeing Eye.”

“We’re not doing code names, Talia,” Geordi muttered into his communicator, but a smile nonetheless grew on his face. “You guys have security handled?”

“You got it, Geordi. We’re currently the only two in the security room for this sector. Do you know that if you wear a security uniform and say there’s been a shift mix-up, people will be happy about it and just _go?”_

“We could be anybody!” Jorge’s voice sounded in the background. Geordi heard the sound of him fidgeting with technology. “We could be _serial killers!”_

“I bet it was more complicated than that, but you can also talk the clothes off of anyone. Diplomacy’s a good track for you.” That got rid of the security issue, which would hopefully let Geordi repair him in private. The last thing he wanted was security flouncing in under the impression that Geordi was flinging himself at a homicidal android for some sort of death wish.

In theory, undoing Korlack’s work wouldn’t take long. Korlack had taken very neat, organized notes on the PADD about what he had done. If it hadn’t been used to turn his boyfriend into a homicidal maniac, Geordi might’ve been impressed. But, at the end of the day, Geordi had also never worked inside of an android’s head before, particularly one like Data. He was … not that he would’ve ever admitted it to anyone living, but hell, he was scared.

It was going to be fine. It was going to be fine. The worst case scenario, Data suddenly re-activated himself and choked him to death in the middle of Engineering.

That was a pretty bad worst case scenario.

Even with that thought in mind, Geordi knew he couldn’t just throw in the towel. Not if that meant leaving Data to be torn apart by Engineering. And after that, who knew? Maybe they’d never put him back together again. Maybe they’d just give his parts away to the different research labs. The idea that Geordi didn’t have a choice – that either he went in there or Data was never fixed again – made him feel a little better.

“Matt and I will keep the doors locked from the outside for you,” Lyra whispered. “Just give us the signal when you want us to open them back up again.”

“We have a signal?” Matt asked quizzically.

“No, we _don’t_ have a signal, Talia just had too much faith in my ability to recreate bird calls. Just hit me on the communicator.” He stepped inside the sprawling Engineering lab, looking at Lyra and Matt in turn. Geordi almost wanted to ask them to come along, even if it was just for moral support.

Lyra suddenly rushed forward to hug him, followed by Matt. Geordi froze in confusion, arms up in the air as a 6’4” human and a 5’2” Bajoran were, apparently, trying to squeeze the stuffing out of him. “ _Um?”_ He asked curiously, not pulling out of the embrace.

“It’s just a really brave thing you’re doing, Geordi,” Lyra cooed against his chest, and Matt nodded.

“Seriously, man, the bot tried to murder you and you’re going to fix him. That’s grade-A hero material right there.”

Geordi groaned and started to untangle himself. “Oh, _no._ No no no. It’s not like that, it’s just …” He looked over his shoulder, into the tangle of labs and corridors. Even if it was dark – it reminded Geordi of Dracula’s castle, dimly – there was still something scientifically familiar about it. Geordi had been in dozens of Engineering labs. Every one was different and every one was the same. “It’s just an engineering problem, guys. That’s my specialty.” He started to back away towards one of them. “I’ll let you know my progress.”

He wasn’t any _hero._ Geordi made his way down through the labs, looking at the glowing panels outside the doors to determine what was there. His PADD was clutched against his chest as he continued making his way through. _What if they moved him?_ Geordi thought to himself, worried questions starting to pepper the inside of his mind. _What if they’ve already taken him apart? If he’s just pieces on a table, you don’t have a chance in hell of putting him back together again._ Geordi may have been an accomplished engineer, but he was only eighteen. He wasn’t an android expert.

He was approaching a dead-end. None of the laboratories indicated that they held anything even close to Data, and Geordi was starting to worry that maybe he should go back and actually physically check them all, just in case. It was dark in the laboratories, but Geordi could see perfectly well with the VISOR in place and it wouldn’t take _that_ long to search …

One of the panels was blank. The room number was displayed in large green text, but that was all.

Geordi knew in his gut.

He pushed through the doors, and there was his boyfriend. There was his _best_ friend, actually, and even if Geordi had seen Data twice since he went missing – suddenly Geordi felt like he was seeing him, _really_ seeing him, for the first time since their first date.

Data was on his back on one of the Engineering tables, by all appearances looking like a very tidy corpse. Geordi’s heart swelled at the sight of him again. He wasn’t even disassembled, not really. Just de-activated and waiting for a certain first-year cadet to try his hardest.

It was show-time.

 _You’re a rockstar._ Geordi told himself as he attached a robotic arm to a port in Data’s back. Soon, the arm was pulling Data upright so he could get to the casing in the back of his skull. All the while, Geordi kept trying to encourage himself. It gave him little room for fear. “You are a goddamn engineering genius,” he told himself out loud, feeling around for Data’s release switch in his hair. It sprung open, and Geordi saw his first positronic brain. Talking to himself made him feel much better about the situation, even if he knew that he was the only one to hear it.

The situation was tense. He had four good friends protecting his back out there, but he would _definitely_ be let go from the Academy if someone walked in on him right now. They wouldn’t even have a trial over it. Geordi was fiddling with, technically speaking, even if the term enraged him – Starfleet property and he’d broken onto Starfleet property to do it. He just had to trust the others.

It was dark, the Engineering department always had a low hum from the various instruments, and Geordi’s back was to the door. He _really_ just had to trust the others.

But he had to admit that it was pretty beautiful, nonetheless. Lights lit up the interior of Data’s head, and Geordi could peer inside at the intricacy of it. Whoever had made him had cared about every little detail. Not a single wire out of place. Frankly, his head was much neater than Geordi anticipated. Sure, there was seeing things with the VISOR, but there was also seeing the beautiful symmetry of good engineering without any other crap in the way.

Geordi reached for his tool with one hand, and his PADD for another. “Okay. Okay. It looks like he’s modified your hostility programming.” _To attack me. Jesus._ _Don’t focus on that, Geordi, just keep talking._ “I just need to connect you to a terminal so I can access your code.” In front of him, Data stood, supported only by the strength of the robotic arm holding him up. He gingerly pried open one of Data’s import nodes and reached for a cable, plugging it in.

Data’s entire body gave a hard _lurch_ backward, against the robotic arm. It creaked in exertion; Geordi jumped backward as soon as he expected Data to turn back on. He was ready to defend himself, for whatever good it did, armed with a nanodriver. Like that would’ve done anything.

Nothing. Made it had been a reflex? “Sorry,” Geordi nevertheless found himself apologizing. He patted Data’s shoulder and went to go sit, cross-legged, in front of the terminal.

Millions, billions, maybe a _trillion_ lines of code that made up Data’s entire system. Geordi thought it might be overkill, but hell, if an organic being was uploaded into a computer, how many lines of code would it take to run _that?_

He couldn’t give up now.

He reached for the PADD and started to sort through it. Korlack may have been an evil, whining, conniving son of a bitch, but _damn_ if he didn’t know how to thoroughly comment his code. Geordi wasn’t sure if that was an indication of guilt – was he planning to revisit the changes he’d made? – or whether Korlack simply considered this a _learning_ experience. Where else could he get the opportunity to reprogram the most advanced android in the galaxy?

Geordi stuck the stylus into the edge of his mouth as he compared the PADD to what he saw on the terminal screen, getting to work.

Frankly, he was grateful that he had Talia and Lyra, Matt and Jorge – it was good to not have to worry about whether he’d be interrupted when he was deep in his work. A bit of his brain was still concerned (and occasionally he’d get an abjectly frightening flash of his mother’s face finding out about _any_ of this), but for the most part, he considered the work, and the android, in front of him. He almost forgot about the hypothetical danger he was in if he were found. This was a problem to solve. A puzzle.

When he got this all put together, he’d have to turn Data back on. And suddenly he was _very_ aware that he hadn’t brought any sort of weapon to defend himself if he was wrong. If he cried out, he was too deep within the engineering hellmaze to be heard by anyone. _Maybe_ Talia and Jorge in the security room on the cameras, but even then, it’d be too late before they sent any help.

He shook his head. No. Couldn’t worry about that, right now. He had to trust himself. He could do this, he _could._ And Data under normal circumstances wouldn’t hurt a fly. Geordi’s mind drifted to their date, to Data’s artificially cozy arm draped around his shoulders. Data was a good guy – a _great_ guy. Any Starfleet ship would be lucky to have him, and Korlack and Kagrin categorically couldn’t be on a ship. They shouldn’t have been in Starfleet, period.

Geordi just had no idea how he was going to prove it if he couldn’t fix Data.

There was the obvious solution, of course: Admitting to the Admiralty that he’d broken into Korlack’s room and overheard the phone conversation, implicating both him and Kagrin, and … well, pleading for mercy, but also understanding that he could damn well be kicked out of the Academy for it. That seemed like a situation with too many risks and not enough chances for success.

Like he usually did, Geordi found himself talking things through out loud. His conversation partner was a little … well, dead. But Geordi could work with that.

“Well,” he addressed, almost directly to Data, “That’s the question, isn’t it? Could I do more good staying in Starfleet, than bad they’d do by staying here? I mean, if it really comes down to it.” Already, Geordi could almost picture Data’s response in his head. He shook his head and paged down a few lines of code. “I know it doesn’t work like that. Not a scale. The same people I do good for probably won’t be the same people they hurt.”

And besides … “And maybe I’m even complicit, a little, if I _know_ what they can do, what they’re willing to do, and I don’t tell anyone. Right? I mean, they’ve risked people’s lives, even if they didn’t mean to. One of these days, they’ll end up killing someone.” Geordi’s eyes flicked from the terminal. Still typing, he glanced at Data. “Maybe they have. I don’t know. You told me once that deactivation is kind of like death, for you.”

Data’s face, slack, didn’t respond. Geordi’s stomach twisted in fear at the very idea.

“I mean, they’ve decided to make themselves the … the big judges of personhood, haven’t they?” Geordi continued as he worked. Deleting a line there, adding a line there. At least the code modifications themselves weren’t anything more than he expected. They certainly weren’t done by a professional. _Thanks for programming Data to attack me, Korlack,_ he thought wryly. _Really appreciate it._ “They looked at you, at all of … you, your independence, your sentience, your niceness, and said ‘nope, you don’t count as a person because you don’t have an organic circulatory system’.” He flexed his wrist on the terminal keyboard. “What stops them from doing that on an actual away mission somewhere, you know? Deciding that a species doesn’t count as a sentient lifeform. It’s hard to tell with aliens sometimes. No offense.”

It could spiral out of control, ruining Starfleet’s reputation and more. What was worse: it could _hurt_ people. Jesus, he couldn’t imagine how things would go if they decided an entire planet didn’t have sentient life. The people they could hurt, Kagrin and Korlack both. It didn’t matter if they were on different ships, different departments – Engineering could fuck a species up just as easily as Command, and often did.

“You’re right,” Geordi muttered to himself, dipping his head. “Yeah, I know you are. Alright. I’ll go to the Admiralty after I re-activate you and just face the music.” _They can’t be too hard on me. I mean, I’ve never instigated a warp core breach and killed a quarter of the engineering cadets,_ _right? I just … broke into a place and stole something of mine._

Indicating his friends’ guilt was also not an option. No. Lying may have been … well, bad, but as far as the Admiralty was going to know, he had worked entirely alone and had just gotten really, really lucky.

He worked in contemplative silence for some time longer, some of the tension and anxiety leaving his body. This was his comfort zone. Even if the stakes were high, Geordi almost felt like he were part of the machine himself. He knew, now more than ever, that he was meant for this. He fixed things.

Finally, the coding seemed to match what Data had previously, according to several quick glances between his PADD and the console. The non-hostility programming was active again, and all Geordi had to do was reboot his friend.

His finger hesitated over the command. Moment of truth.

It was one thing to be able to see the code written down, it was another to place his own life in the hands of his programming ability. He saw the robotic arm still attached to Data’s back, rendering him immobile, but could it _really_ stay steady against all of Data’s effort? Geordi knew the answer to that one, already.

Regardless, there was only one decision. At the climax of a film, when it looked like the hero made a tough decision, Geordi suddenly had very little sympathy. If the option was _save someone’s life_ and _go home and pretend it never happened,_ what choice did he have really?

He rebooted Data’s systems.

Light flickered on behind Data’s eyelids, which soon opened. They stared at nothing blankly for some time, and Geordi saw his limbs twitch – testing their range of motion in a jerkily mechanic format – before he settled himself into his normal human-mimicking routines. He breathed deeply and started to look around, before his eyes fell on the cadet behind the terminal.

“Geordi?” Data asked politely. “Would you please detach me from this device? I will not be able to extricate myself without breaking it.”

Geordi could’ve _cried._

As it was, he beamed widely, pressing a few buttons to detach Data from the mechanical arm. Data took a step forward, before reaching between his shoulders to close his connection port. His walk was steady but non-aggressive as he approached the terminal. Their eyes met, and Geordi’s breath caught in his throat.

“What time is it?” Data asked suddenly, and while it wasn’t the _most_ romantic thing that he’d ever heard, it was enough to make Geordi jump up and hug him.

He threw his arms around the android’s body and squeezed. Geordi never had to worry about hurting him. It was like hugging a tree trunk. He shoved his face against Data’s shoulder and, after a moment’s confusion, Data laid his arms around Geordi’s neck. The touch was almost soft.

They stood like that for some time, before Data cleared his throat. “There is an issue with my internal chronometer. I do not know the time,” he offered, almost apologetically.

Right. The time. Geordi stepped away, looking at the terminal, and gave it to him. “Is the rest of you okay? Do you know what happened? Data, you were missing for _days,_ and then there was the …” What was the most polite way to phrase this? “You tried to _kill_ me in the shuttle!” That wasn’t the most polite way to phrase that. Definitely wasn’t.

Data blinked at him in confusion, gears (metaphorically) turning in his head.

Geordi was able to put the pieces together. “You don’t remember.”

“I do not. The last memory I am able to recall is my walk from your dormitory back to mine. I took an extended route in order to contemplate the contents and outcome of the date. Then.” Data cut himself off, pursing his lips in concentration. His eyes were a thousand miles away. “I see two cadets. They are ahead of me, in shadow. They step out into the light of the street lamp. They are Kagrin and Korlack. Kagrin possesses a phaser. Korlack possesses a wheelbarrow.”

“ _They transported you in a fucking wheelbarrow—”_ The disbelief was almost shrill, and Geordi cut himself off. No. He had to focus on the victories, here. Namely, Data being here, and being _okay._ “What do you remember after that?”

His eyes shifted back into focus. “Nothing. I do not recall. I am missing two weeks and fifty-seven minutes of memory.” He looked down at Geordi. “I attempted to murder you?”

“Don’t worry about it. We need to –”

“I attempted to murder you. I cannot express worry, but that issue is very important to me. Are you physically unhurt?” Geordi saw Data looking over him, doubtlessly gazing through the same filters installed in Geordi’s VISOR. He reached up and self-consciously pressed at his throat with his hand.

Geordi was already lightly tugging on Data’s sleeve – to go where, he didn’t know, exactly. To find an Admiral. _Somewhere._ But Data was immovable, and instead looking down at him intently. He would almost say concern was reflected in his yellow eyes. “ _Yeah.”_ It came out as frustrated, and Geordi corrected himself. “Yes. Yes, I am. Thanks.”

Data nodded once. “Good. Imperative. What is our next course of action?”

Their next course of action? Geordi was ready to keep basking in this for a few moments longer – that Data was _alive,_ that Data was _okay,_ that Geordi had been intelligent and capable enough to _fix_ him. No matter what happened after, Geordi could relax in the fact that Data, his friend, Data, was _safe._ And he would be damned if he would ever let anyone touch Data again.

He stepped forward and kissed him. It wasn’t much more than a chaste peck against his lips – Geordi bailed out of something less passionate a second or two into it, because it was clear that Data was still waiting for an answer. He had a hand pressed fondly against Geordi’s side, yellow eyes searching him intently.

“Well, Data,” Geordi remarked. He took the hand on his side and interlaced his fingers through it, holding the android’s hand so tightly that his fingers went numb. “We’re gonna make sure those two assholes never hurt anyone again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update because the first chapter as a little short - and a quick update because I'm dashing off! With Data safe and sound, time to engage in some justice. Thanks to everyone who's read/commented/left kudos - I've been getting way more engagement with this fic than I thought, and I do really appreciate it! See you all next Sat!


	16. Admiral Zheng

For all the care that Geordi had taken to break into an engineering lab and rescue Data, he had to admit that he ran out of there like a bat out of hell.

Thankfully, nobody cared too much about people breaking _out_ of an engineering lab.

He had breathlessly huffed a few fragmented sentences into the comm about what happened, and bid everyone to abandon their posts because he and Data had to go find the Admiralty without any further delay. Geordi knew that it was probably overworrying, but he couldn’t help but get the feeling that if he waited even a second longer than necessary – Data would be yanked from him again.

He knew Data could sprint out of there so quickly as to be a blur, so he was grateful that Data matched his pace. Data even held his hand until they reached the outer doors of the building, wherein freeing up his hand was more expedient. Geordi didn’t want to imagine what the rest of the Academy cadets would do if they saw what they believed to be a homicidal android sprinting across campus at a break-neck pace.

As it was, Geordi knew they were attracting stares as they got across campus. Data’s exploits had become practically well known, and to see him at Data’s side again … well. Was cause for concern at a minimum.

“Admiral Zheng’s office,” Geordi prompted, and he saw Data make an almost imperceptible nod. Not for the first time, he wished he could tell what was going on through Data’s head. The most he was able to say was that Data wasn’t taking the effort to compose himself into something more human. The “muscles” in his face were slack, giving him a grim appearance.

Probably didn’t do well to break the impression that he was a murder-bot running across the Starfleet Academy campus.

Geordi heard his communicator chime one, two, ten times. The others, wanting to know what the hell was going on. _Later,_ Geordi privately considered. Right now, Geordi considered Data still in active danger. And he would be, so long as Kagrin and Korlack still remained on campus. The idea of Data being taken away again was terrifying.

And – well. There was no saying that none of the cadets watching them had called for security. Security could’ve been investigating their location right then. Thankfully, Data was running a little in front of him, so at least it didn’t look like he was being _chased._

Kagrin and Korlack had grown to two boogeymen in his mind, waiting to leap out at any corner and snatch Data away. Geordi wasn’t going to let that happen. He still had his PADD on him, and like hell was he going to let Data out of his sight until they were locked up somewhere. The modifications to Data’s programming had been almost laughably elementary, but the implications had been much larger – and much more painful.

They reached the offices and went inside, their footsteps starting to echo on the sheer marble floor. Data knew where they were going better than Geordi was – not, Geordi hoped, because he’d been summoned to plenty of Admiralty offices but because he had pulled up the map and memorized it in less than a millisecond. Jesus, he hoped Data was doing okay. Geordi knew that he should pull him aside, ask him how he was doing, ask him if he needed to take a break before – but _fixing this_ seemed so much more urgent than tending to Data’s feelings which may or may not exist.

 _Oh my god, you’re turning into your dad,_ Geordi thought to himself crazily, just as they stepped in front of Admiral Zheng’s office.

“Data – “ Geordi got out, but Data was already opening the door and entering into her office. Saying his name turned into a word of alarm as Geordi rushed in behind him.

Admiral Zheng was already standing up from her desk, her hand on her communicator, as Data stood on the far side of her deck with his back written against the wall. Geordi could practically read _I have made a significant miscalculation_ on his face. Data was lucky Admiral Zheng hadn’t shot him with a phaser.

“He’s _fine!”_ Geordi blurted out, stepping further into the room. He got himself between Data and the Admiral, shoving his hands out in a surrendering gesture. “He’s fine, Admiral Zheng, I promise, I’ve fixed him. I - “ Geordi spared a glance behind his shoulder at Data. Data met his gaze, but was otherwise inscrutable. “We have a lot to explain.”

Admiral Zheng was the next to return his gaze, and nobody spoke for the better part of it. Then, slowly, Admiral Zheng’s fingers pressed against her communicator again. “Belay that order, security,” she commanded. “We’re all fine here.”

Well, Geordi wasn’t sure about that, but she _really_ hoped so. If anything, Geordi hoped, the fact that Data hadn’t wrapped his hands around his neck yet was more than proof that Data had some work done. “Some things have happened,” Geordi got out, but it sounded weak and pitiful to his own ears. Even Admiral Zheng fixed him with a look of ‘ _no shit, buddy.’_ “And we wanted to, uh – we wanted to put forward a complaint about cadets Kagrin and Korlack.”

Was that how things were meant to go? Geordi realized that with a shock, he hardly knew how to _report_ cadets formally. He never thought that he’d be put in a situation where he had to. They probably had gone over that, at some point, hadn’t they? There were probably procedures in place. People probably didn’t just run into Admirals offices and demand that cadets be investigated for attempted murder.

There, Data stepped forward from where he’d been pressed against the filing cabinets. “I,” he corrected quietly. “I would like to put forward a complaint about cadets Kagrin and Korlack.”

Geordi twisted his head to look at him. He wasn’t exactly sure what the difference meant there. Data wasn’t looking at him, instead focusing his eyes directly to Admiral Zheng.

Admiral Zheng looked between the two of them, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. Eventually, she put a hand forward and gestured towards the two seats in front of her desk. “You’re both going to need to explain. Including, Cadet La Forge, why Cadet Data is no longer in an Engineering laboratory.”

Geordi flinched. He hadn’t exactly thought through that part, had he? But then again, fixing Data and leaving him to rot in some clinical laboratory was non-negotiable. It just wasn’t going to happen.

Lying was an option, of course, but with his partner-in-crime here (well, sort of) being incapable of the act …

Time to face the music, he guessed.

Geordi took a seat down in front of the desk. Data did the same with the other. All eyes were on him, and Geordi felt … what was this, _stage fright?_ He supposed that the adrenaline coursing through his spine wasn’t helping matters. Geordi took a deep breath in. For a second, he seriously considered disabling his VISOR. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to see this.

And he explained.

For the most part, Admiral Zheng didn’t stop him as Geordi went on. He started with the incident at the party – the incident with the acid – the incident at the warp core – Data’s disappearance and subsequent reappearance – and, yes, he included breaking into Korlack’s room and taking his own PADD back before breaking into the labs in order to save Data.

That was one of the places Admiral Zheng stopped him. “You broke into another cadet’s quarters?” She asked, her voice inscrutable.

Data’s eyes were on him, too.

Geordi answered “yes” in a small voice.

He wanted to protest, of course. How was that a big deal in the grand scheme of things? An attempt had been made on Data’s life, and his own – _twice!_ A little breaking and entering, especially to retrieve stolen property, was nothing in comparison. But Admiral Zheng didn’t comment further on it, and Geordi finished the rest of the explanation.

Geordi had been dimly aware that Admiral Zheng had been recording his words on the communicator on her desk. Good, frankly. He didn’t want to have to repeat this too many more times. There was only so many times he could describe the feeling of Data’s hands around his neck without getting itchy.

If there was any part of the story that Geordi skirted over, it was the inclusion of his friends in all this. Admiral Zheng didn’t need to know that he had help, particularly with breaking in to places. If she suspected that Geordi wasn’t capable of breaking in alone, she didn’t comment on it.

He was aware of Data watching him, too. He had no doubt that Data was recording it in his own way. Data was rigid on the chair, turned in a way that was almost unnatural. Geordi was more nervous about Data’s eyes on him than Admiral Zheng. A lot of this, Data simply wouldn’t know. And none of this painted Data in a gentle and kind light, even if it wasn’t his fault.

When he finally finished (with a comment that he wanted to get here right away, for concerns over Data’s safety), Geordi just took a deep breath and nodded as if putting a final stamp on the story.

Admiral Zheng sat there, soaking it all in. She dropped her gaze to look down at her desk, her fingers steepled in front of her. “This is a very grave matter that you’ve just brought to me, Cadet La Forge.”

“With all due respect, Admiral, I think it was a pretty grave matter before I walked into your office.” He raised his hand and drew his fingers across his neck. There was no mark there, no indication of what had happened, but a dermal regenerator couldn’t exactly scrub his brain.

“And you, Cadet Data? You can verify all of this?”

Data looked up as if he’d forgotten that he was able to speak, before nodding his head mechanically. “My memory logs had stopped recording after Cadets Kagrin and Korlack damaged my cranial unit. They only began to function again after Cadet La Forge made his repairs. However, everything before and after those damages I am able to verify.” A beat passed, and Data added, almost earnestly: “And have implicit trust in Cadet La Forge’s memory for the rest.”

“And these … repairs, that Cadet La Forge made? They’re sufficient?”

“They restored me to 94.7% operating capacity. I was able to perform internal re-calibrations and bring myself up to 99.6% operating capacity. I will need to replicate several parts in order to repair the rest, but I expect that I will reach 100.0% operating capacity after those repairs have been conducted.”

And, irrationally, Geordi found himself turning in his chair. “Hang on, _94%?_ I thought I’d gotten things a little better than that. What did I miss?”

“94.7%, Geordi. It was very admirable, especially as your specialty is not in android engineering or repair.”

“Yeah, but – “

“Cadet La Forge is a first-year Starfleet cadet. To say that he has ‘specialties’ would be a little presumptive.” Admiral Zheng’s voice was hardly dismissive, but there was no warmth in her face. Still, Geordi couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being lightly teased.

Data turned towards the Admiral next. “He has shown to be extremely proficient at imminent warp core breach repairs.”

That soothed Geordi’s ego somewhat, even if he felt like Data was teasing him a little, too. It was a little bit of levity – basically a soothing balm for all that had happened today. He relaxed in the chair and looked towards Admiral Zheng, his look inquiring.

Finally, Admiral Zheng pulled her PADD closer to her on the desk. “Given what you’ve told me, we’re going to open an honor council violation against the cadets. I can understand that you may feel unsafe –”

 _Unsafe!_ Geordi got out. “I mean, _yeah?_ I’d say Data feels pretty unsafe.”

Admiral Zheng looked towards the cadet himself. Data paused, looking between the two, before offering: “I am more concerned with the safety of Cadet La Forge. It is his life, moreso than mine, that has been threatened.”

Geordi wasn’t exactly sure about that, but he supposed Data did have the benefit of repairability. If someone damaged Geordi’s cranial unit, it’d just make one big sticky mess.

“I’m fine,” Geordi got out, shaking his head. “I don’t think the cadets ever wanted to hurt _me._ At least, not as bad as they did.”

Data had leaned over his chair to put a hand on his shoulder. “Geordi – “

There, Geordi scowled and brushed his hand off. “I’m fine, Data.”

He hated to admit it, but he _was_ getting frustrated. Now, more than ever, Geordi felt like he was the only one screaming from the hilltops about Data’s safety and welfare. _Data_ couldn’t even be assed to care about his own wellbeing half the time, and now the attention was shifted on _him?_ Because, yeah, his life had been threatened one and a half, _maybe_ two times? They’d taken Data apart.

“Do you have a place that you can stay, Cadet Data?”

Geordi reached over and put his hand over Data’s, his fingers curling around the edges of Data’s palm. “He can stay with me.”

And, _yeah,_ maybe he flicked his eyes over to Data to make sure that he wasn’t deeply opposed to this idea. Gratefully, Data didn’t react. The last thing Geordi wanted to do was trust his terrible roommate to make sure that nobody harmed Data again.

“But this honor code violation – I didn’t think they could instigate criminal proceedings because of those. I mean, dishonorable discharge is one thing, but these people tried to get Data _killed.”_

Admiral Zheng considered this. As she did, Geordi was aware that Data had flipped his palm over, ever-so-slowly, to hold Geordi’s hand in return. “It would be possible to instigate a criminal investigation after their discharge, if it’s granted. But given the unusual circumstances, I think a criminal investigation would take … more time than normally expected. It would be best to start with the discharge first and move into criminal proceedings.”

“Unusual circumstances?” Geordi asked the question, but even before he finished, he knew exactly what Admiral Zheng was saying.

Data explained it anyway. “My personhood has not been established in a court of law, Geordi.” He kept his voice low. Geordi felt his hand start to warm – Data was increasing his core temperature, inch by inch, so it didn’t feel like he was holding onto a metal railing. “It would be difficult to place criminal charges against them for acts of violence against myself. Of course, it would be more feasible to argue that they damaged Starfleet property – or that they utilized Starfleet property in order to negligently perform violence against you – “

“What? _No.”_ Frustration burrowed deep into Geordi’s chest. He was filled with the urge to be almost _petulant,_ to stamp his foot and _demand_ that people open their eyes. Of course Data was a person, _look_ at him. “That’s ridiculous, Data. Obviously, you’re not a piece of machinery, and they’ve could’ve killed you. So many times, we’re not going to just ignore that because it’s – because it’s _easier.”_

“Regardless of the criminal investigation, the honor council violation has a lower legal standard. It’s obvious to see that Kagrin and Korlack have acted in a manner unfit for a Starfleet cadet.”

“Or sentient beings in general,” Geordi added, in a lower tone. But he backed off, at least for now.

“You will both receive communications about where and when you’ll need to report. Your statements may need to be taken – and there may be questioning involved. I’ve granted you both reprieves from your classes until it concludes.”

Geordi blinked a few times. Right. Classes. He was a first-year cadet that had classes. He hadn’t even thought to ask about a reprieve, but it was a good thing. Geordi doubted that he’d be able to even _fake_ focusing on his class during the course of it. “Is there anything else you require of us, Admiral?” Data asked politely.

“No. All the work left to be done is on my end alone. You both are dismissed.”

Data stood at once, but Geordi found himself frozen in his chair. Stunned, nearly. The idea that the only thing left to do was _wait_ was almost unfathomable. There had to be things he could do. Geordi wasn’t exactly a fan of vigilante justice, but _Jesus,_ Kagrin and Korlack were just going to be allowed to carry about their day until the council discharged them from Starfleet? And then, what? Tied up in years of Federation court trying to determine whether they’d done anything violent to an android?

“Yes, Cadet La Forge?”

“Will Kagrin and Korlack be held somewhere?” Geordi found himself asking. “They’re, they – I mean, with what they’ve done, I’m worried they might try something against Data.”

There was a hand on his shoulder from Data standing behind the chair.

“Given the severity of what occurred and the evidence you’ve shown me, I’m going to recommend that they stay in their dormitories. Without contact from one another.”

“Recommend?” Geordi asked, frowning. “I mean, how serious is – _recommend,_ what’s that even - “

“Geordi,” Data murmured from behind him.

“If they decide to defy it, it will reflect poorly upon them during the trial.”

It wasn’t what Geordi wanted to hear. He wanted to see them locked up somewhere – he wanted them _erased_ from his life, and Data’s life. Geordi didn’t ever want to ever think about them again. He wanted them to realize the severity of what they’d done, and he wanted them to feel _horrified_ at themselves for doing it.

But this was what he was getting. And it was a start, anyway.

“Thank you, Admiral Zheng,” Geordi murmured, raising from his chair. Together, he and Data exited the office. He found himself so consumed with his thoughts that he didn’t speak a word to Data. Data, in turn, didn’t speak a word to him. It was perhaps the longest walk of his life back to his dormitory – and it felt like the eyes of all of Starfleet were on him.

**

“Oh – this place is a mess. Sorry,” Geordi muttered when the door slid open. His dormitory looked like a hurricane had hit it from their plans to go and raid Korlack’s room – and, after, the engineering laboratories. Geordi picked up a pizza box and tossed it down the recycling shoot. “Uh, let me clean up a little.”

“Unnecessary.” Data chirped. “Geordi, may we talk?”

He supposed that they hadn’t, not really, since Geordi had repaired him. It was two hours ago and felt like an entire lifetime had passed, but getting to Admiral Zheng had been essential. “Uh, yeah,” Geordi remarked, pitching a few cans towards the chute. “Of course we can.”

Data wasted no time in nearly bounding forward and hugging him. Strong mechanical arms wrapped around his middle, practically squeezing Geordi against his chest.

His boyfriend was a genius, but there were certain human interactions that still eluded him. This, Geordi considered, was one of those times. And yet, Geordi blamed himself when he flinched at the feeling of Data’s arms around him. _Jesus, you fixed him yourself, you know he’s fine now,_ and yet. Data’s arms relaxed immediately, scanned Geordi’s face, and then his mouth popped open in realization. “Ah. I apologize, Geordi. I did not think.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Just – instinct, I guess. Get back here.” Geordi threw his arm around Data’s neck to pull him for a hug again. This time, Data’s arms were gentler around his torso. Not even _holding_ him, really, just a place to keep his hands. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Data.”

“Thank you for repairing me, Geordi. I would not have ever come back online if it had not been for you.”

 _That_ was a scary thought, and Geordi held him a little tighter at the thought of it. He wouldn’t have, would he? They would’ve just dismantled him for parts and tried to figure out why the most advanced android in the universe went postal. “I’m gonna make sure that they never hurt you again. Okay?”

“That is what I wanted to talk to you about.”

 _Ah._ Geordi got himself out of the hug, fixing Data with a questioning glance. Data gestured with a look towards the bed, and they both sat. Their outer thighs brushed together while Geordi gathered his thoughts. He hadn’t realized how exhausted he was until he’d sat down, but it’d been a _long_ day. And he would still have to talk to the others – his _parents,_ too – and explain all that had happened.

“Alright. Hit me.”

“I do not think that you will enjoy the conversation. And I do not want to stress you further, after the day that you have had.” Data’s lips pursed. “I am trying to find the best way to phrase this conversation in order to minimize your mental exertion.”

“I’m fine.” It felt like the dozenth time that day that he’d said it. Geordi wasn’t even too certain that it was true.

“I would like you to step away from the honor council investigation.” Data took a deep breath. “It is almost certain that you will be brought in as a witness to give your statement. I will not argue against that. But otherwise, Geordi, I am asking that you not get involved.”

It was so bizarre, so out of left field, that Geordi was almost certain he’d misunderstood. “Wh – what? Why?”

Data pressed his hand against Geordi’s knee firmly. He was speaking slower than his normal, a carefully modulated vocal output that Geordi suspected was meant to be reassuring. “You have already done too much.”

“Yeah? No, I haven’t. I’ve done what I _needed_ to do. You said it yourself, if I hadn’t gotten involved, you would’ve died.”

“I know. I am not implying that you should have acted any differently. It is because of you that I still have my life.” Data’s gaze was drawn towards the floor. While he logically knew that Data couldn’t feel nervous, he nevertheless got the feeling that Data was dealing with too many unknowns to be comfortable. “But I do not want you to interfere any longer. Your life has already been put at risk.”

“I don’t care about my safety.”

Suddenly intense, Data spat fervently: “But I _do!”_

He had never heard Data speak so passionately before. Hell, the next best option was when Data was shrieking ‘ _dead!’_ at him, when he wasn’t in his right mind. Geordi wondered if he had just seen an android lose his temper.

“Geordi, I appreciate your willingness to assist me. You have helped at every step of the process. However, I … am a person.” Data had relaxed, his tone speeding up to its usual speed. “A person capable of my own responsibilities and obligations.”

Geordi still wasn’t following. Data took a few seconds to think, and continued. “Do you recall when you urged me to report the cadets, after the incident at the party and the incident with the acid?”

Now, _that_ seemed like another lifetime. “Yeah. You didn’t, said you didn’t want to rock the boat.”

“Rock the boat,” Data muttered to himself like he was taking an audio note. “I made an error in my judgment. I should have realized that the cadets would have naturally escalated their attentions once they convinced themselves further of my lack of personhood. If I had done so early, perhaps your life would not have been in danger.”

“Or maybe they would have said you were a lying toaster and _you_ would have been discharged from Starfleet.”

“Perhaps. But _your life would not have been in danger,”_ Data emphasized. “In essence, Geordi, I believe that this investigation is my responsibility. I will be there for its duration. It is my problem to solve. I am grateful to you for taking care of me, and the situation that I have brought you into, but you have done enough.”

Geordi felt like he finally understood. That didn’t mean he had to like it. He had to begrudgingly admit that he’d been the standing up for Data, advocating for his personhood more than anyone ever had. It had all seemed so obvious to Geordi, and why other people couldn’t see that, he still didn’t know.

But Data wanted to stand up for himself. How could Geordi be anything but proud?

If he insisted further, he had a feeling that Data would relent. But Geordi knew how it would go. Geordi would act as Data’s spokesperson during the investigation, he would point out injustices and come down on people hard and try and keep Data comfortable – and Data would fade into the background.

The entire idea made Geordi feel like some sort of mad scientist and Data was his creation.

“Okay,” Geordi agreed, nodding along. He reached over and took Data’s hand. “Look, I’m not gonna say the idea thrills me, not to be aware of every step of the process. But I get it, and I – want you to do this for yourself. I think we’re gonna lose the point really quickly if the only guy who ever sticks up for an android is human.”

Data squeezed his hand back. “Thank you, Geordi. I will, of course, keep you updated on everything that occurs.”

“And if I hear you let those guys walk all over you, I’m going to be _pissed,_ you got it?”

There, Data seemed to understand the metaphor without Geordi explaining. Data smiled at it and dipped his head. “I will make certain that they are fully aware of the implications of what they have done with their work.”

“They better.” Geordi wanted to see their faces when they first realized Data was a living person. Perhaps they wouldn’t ever realize, content to live in denial rather than face what they’d done. But perhaps they would. Geordi _hoped_ they would. “Sometimes I don’t know why you want to be human, Data. Some of us are _terrible._ Look at Kagrin.”

Data seemed unbothered. “Androids occasionally commit terrible acts, too.” His other hand brushed over the side of Geordi’s neck. Geordi wondered if he could feel the small inconsistencies at the micro level that he knew were still in his skin. He couldn’t see them, couldn’t even feel them. Perhaps Data could.

“You had to be controlled and taken apart and … and fucking _rearranged_ to make you try to commit murder, Data. They tried to commit murder all on their own. Of course I don’t _blame_ you for what happened, nobody could do that in their right mind.”

He wasn’t sure how obvious that was, but some things had to be said to Data. Geordi could understand. “Some humans are terrible,” Data greed. “But some humans are not. There is one, in particular, that is the best man I have ever met. Brave, and selfless, and heroic. He, I believe, is worth trying to emulate.”

Geordi turned to tease Data, because that would deflect from the sudden urge to cry. Or, worse, to deny what Data had just said. He wasn’t trying to tell Data that he was wrong, but he was just an engineer. A damn good engineer, but Data had called him some kind of hero, and Geordi was just … an engineer. That was all he ever wanted to be.

Data kissed him before Geordi could say a word.

Geordi made a sound of surprise at it, but he couldn’t say that it was unwelcome. He captured Data’s lips back, hand rising to press against the side of Data’s cheek. Everything was slowly starting to sink in: Data was _okay,_ Data was _safe,_ and they were going to make sure that Data got the justice that he deserved.

Data raised his hand to fold around Geordi’s middle, pulling him closer. Geordi hadn’t realized that Data would be upset about Geordi’s getting hurt – but of course he would have. Data may have been made out of metals and plastics, but Data had shown an almost prodigious ability to care. And Data _cared_ for him.

Now, Geordi could just hope that everyone else in the world could see that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After finally deciding whether to make the final chapter or two chapters, I finally have an updated chapter count for the fic - and a notice that next week I'll post both chapters, marking the end of the fic. Aaaah!
> 
> Thanks to all who've read or left comments or kudos so far. It really feels like we're closing in, and it's good to make these boys come full circle. See you all next Saturday!


	17. The Trial

If someone had asked Geordi how much time had gone by during that trial, he would’ve said a month. A year. A lifetime. Even an hour felt like an entire week, but going by the calendar – Data’s trial only took seven days.

While Geordi did stand by his promise to stay away, he felt like it might’ve been the hardest thing he’d ever done. It wasn’t like Geordi was a _legal student,_ exactly, but he wanted to be in there. He wanted to argue Data’s case himself, to shout off the rooftops all the hell that Data had been put through and exactly what Kagrin and Korlack deserved. Then again, he figured that would’ve been the surest way for the trial to go against Data’s favor – and for people to think of Data as being physically incapable of standing up for himself.

Geordi wasn’t happy about it, either way.

He tried to keep things relatively normal between them before/after court and failed miserably. Data would catch on – the way Geordi was having trouble sleeping, the short temper, the hyperactivity. Geordi would accordingly wave him off and give some flimsy human-related excuse, and Data would immediately back off. He felt a little guilty for it, sure, but he figured that was better than having Data worry about him. Data had too much on his plate to delve into _this_ particular human microcosm.

For the best, because Geordi worried about Data enough for the both of them. He couldn’t get the idea out of his head that Kagrin and Korlack would retaliate against him, for good. Geordi had taken to walking Data over every morning, and walking him back every evening. Once, they’d gone out to dinner and it’d nearly drove Geordi _crazy._ Everyone’s eyes seemed to be on the android that was trying to get two cadets expelled.

Data, true to his word, kept him in the loop about how the trial was progressing. The first and second day were just logistics: what happened and where, who they were, and the damage that had been caused. Geordi would sit on his bed with him every night (the dormitory didn’t exactly allow for anything else, unless he wanted to sit at Data’s feet like a child) and listen to Data explain what had gone in trial that day.

Those representing Kagrin and Korlack were opting, as Geordi had expected, for the ‘not an actual person’ defense. Geordi wasn’t sure whether that was better or worse – expecting them to own up to what they did seemed too much, especially when Geordi had no doubt that they believed it themselves. On the third and fourth day, though, Kagrin and Korlack had explained their side of the story.

The bucket of oil at the party? A simple prank, they had said. They had replicated the oil and not stolen Starfleet supplies, they had thought it would be funny to pay homage to an old Earth prank. It was probably not even the biggest breach in regulation that had happened at the party that night, and nobody else was dragging any other cadets in here to explain _their_ nights.

The acid pressed against his lips? Venting of frustration, though they were, of course, _very sorry_ for damaging Starfleet property as they had. But it was hard, you know? It was difficult to achieve in class when a robot was in there, _literally_ knowing everything, and they had just wanted some even playing ground.

The warp core breach? Nothing more than a tragic accident. Korlack hadn’t known that his actions would result in a breach. The entire thing had just been a cover to take Geordi’s PADD, a situation that – of course – they regretted, though their defense indicated that stealing a cadet’s PADD was not enough reason to expel them. Nobody had gotten hurt, and they were very grateful to Geordi La Forge for repairing things. Perhaps this could have been entirely avoided with better supervision. After all, Benzites were not precisely quiet with their aspirators and Korlack said that he’d been up in the catwalks for an hour with nobody questioning him.

Eventually, their frustration had reached a peak. They only wanted to stash Data until after the final examinations, to make grading a little fairer. That he’d inadvertently gotten damaged and had his aggression protocols modified and nearly killed Geordi La Forge (again, extremely regrettable but not in any way their fault) – well. What more could one expect from such an experimental android?

 _That_ had certainly set Geordi’s blood to boiling. He felt like he was going to rush in there himself and start raving, if one of the members of the Engineering department hadn’t gotten to him early that morning on the fifth day. Geordi had been taken to an empty office with a transparent learning board.

There, for six hours, Geordi taught one of the faculty every minute detail about Data’s coding and what had been changed. He was practically sweating by the end of it, frequently having to rum from one end of the board to the other, punctuating each point by raising his voice. By the end, he hoped that he had hammered it into their heads: Data was not violent, and it was only extensive modifications to his code that had made him that way.

The sixth day, Geordi had told his own story. That had been strange, being allowed in the courtroom and seeing everything. They hadn’t let in other visitors or bystanders, given the sensitive nature of it all. So _strange,_ to be standing in that gigantic courtroom with only a handful of the Admiralty, the lawyers, his boyfriend, and … Kagrin and Korlack.

They didn’t look well. Geordi had no idea what constituted sickness on Benzite skin, but the texture of it reminded him of sweaty, scaly fish. Kagrin’s spine didn’t budge a degree from straight, and while Geordi was up there telling his story, he felt Kagrin’s eyes boring holes into him. Geordi wondered if that constituted a threat, even if Kagrin wasn’t saying a single word to him.

Beyond what he had taught the engineering faculty, Geordi didn’t have much to add. He was grateful that his break-in to Korlack’s dormitory had gone unmentioned. Given that the trial had to do with attempted murder against Geordi and Data’s life … well, minor burglary seemed almost funny, in comparison. He only re-emphasized Data’s portion of the timeline and by the time he was dismissed from court (with the engineering faculty next up), it wasn’t even noon on the sixth day.

Fraught with nervousness, Geordi loitered outside for the rest of the day until Data came out to join him. Data was unusually reserved. He didn’t even open his mouth to acknowledge Geordi until they were outside in the sun, walking on the same path as they had their first date. Geordi didn’t want to interrogate the guy. He didn’t want Data to feel like they were in trouble.

Data raised his arm and looped it through Geordi’s before intertwining their hands together. Geordi gave his clammy skin a squeeze. Being in an air-conditioned room all day didn’t do Data’s body temperature any favors. “How’d it go, the rest of today?” Geordi asked quietly. It was a beautifully sunny day outside, with enough wind to ruffle the bottom of his uniform shirt.

“They have dismissed everyone aside from the Admiralty. It is my opinion that they are currently determining the verdict.”

Geordi’s stomach dropped out from underneath him. He shook off the sense of frustration from Data not telling him the moment he’d stepped out the doors. It almost felt like he had jinxed the outcome, by not … _what?_ Letting it consume every waking thought and hoping that everything would turn out okay? There was nothing to be done now. He looked up at Data. “How do you feel?”

Data looked down at him, and Geordi could’ve sworn that he saw apprehension written over his face.

“You think things might go your way?”

“I do not know. I do not feel like the question of my personhood was adequately addressed. However, the cadets have committed several violations of Starfleet policy – purposely or not- regardless of that fact.”

“The warp core breach alone should be enough, you’d think.”

“Perhaps. I have recently discovered that emotions have as much a place in the courtroom as fact, even when they perhaps should not. This places me at a significant disadvantage.”

“Emotions or not, they’re not _stupid.”_ Geordi felt himself getting defensive on Data’s behalf again, and he shook his head to calm himself down. “Did they say when they would finish things?”

“They will have the outcome by tomorrow morning. They will announce it then.” They began to approach Geordi’s dormitory. When this was all over, Geordi decided, they would go out all night. Have fun. Live it up a little. Show Data the _fun_ part of being human. They had spent far too much time in Geordi’s dormitory, too fraught with tension to even think about going out. “Geordi? May I ask a favor from you?”

“Of course, Data. You know you can ask me for anything.” He opened his door to his room, and Data went to sit on his bed at once. Geordi pulled a chair over from his desk.

“I know I have said that I would like you to stay away from the trial. I appreciate that you have agreed to do so. However, circumstances have changed and I believe it would may be beneficial for you to attend with me tomorrow. So that you may hear the outcome as soon as it occurs.”

Geordi hadn’t even _begun_ to think about not being there at the exact second it was announced. “ _Jeez,_ Data. Of course I will. I want to be there for you, no matter what the decision is.”

“Thank you.” Data had pushed himself back to sit with his back against Geordi’s wall. His feet hung off the side of the bed; Geordi marvelled at the way they didn’t bend at all. “It is unusual, to want moral support.”

“Yeah, well. It’s a big deal, isn’t it? I mean, saying it’s a ‘big deal’ feels like an understatement. It’s …” Geordi shrugged his shoulders and held out his arms, as if indicating the entire world. “Life-changing? Could be.”

“Exactly. Whatever the outcome, I will need to conduct millions of small-scale operations in my head in order to plan for the future. I believe the closest human equivalent would be … “ Data considered for a moment, face thoughtful. “Overwhelming.”

“You and me both.” Geordi scratched the back of his head. Something was troubling him, an itch in his brain, and normally – he wouldn’t even have thought about bringing it up. It seemed like some sort of jinx, and would be insensitive besides, but this was _Data._ Data would understand the urge to know. “I’m … sure it’s going to go in your favor, Data. But what are you going to do if it doesn’t?”

The question hung in the air between them. A dormitory wasn’t really quiet, ever. Whoever stayed next to Geordi had their television going, and up above, someone was playing music so loudly that it made the walls reverberate. But in that moment, Geordi could’ve sworn that any sound waves in his dorm got sucked into the vacuum. Data didn’t answer for long enough that Geordi pulled himself up from his chair and joined Data on the bed, sliding an arm around his waist.

“I see no better solution than leaving Starfleet.” Data finally spoke, and Geordi’s arm tightened around his body.

Of course he wanted to argue against it, like he had the first time Data had brought up the idea to him. The first time, Geordi didn’t feel like he really understood. There had been no question about Starfleet for Geordi, with both parents in and a deep-seated love for all things starship engineering. That people had to _decide_ to enter Starfleet was perplexing, to him. But after everything that he’d seen, he could understand Data’s point of view.

If Starfleet wasn’t the kind of organization that would expel Kagrin and Korlack, then what was even the point? Would Data just be doomed to suffer mistreatment at a hundred different hands with no consequences? Hell, it made _Geordi_ disillusioned with the entire thing.

He set his head against Data’s shoulder. “Where would you go?”

“I would stay on Earth. It would be better for me to remain in areas of research, where I can fully utilize my computational abilities.”

Maybe a college somewhere, then. Geordi couldn’t imagine the idea. Staying planet-side for the rest of his life seemed akin to prison. “Do you want that?”

Data’s body had warmed under his arm. He’d gotten used to having Data around at night. Although he’d emphasized that Data could do whatever he wanted – even staring at Geordi sleep from the corner, like the world’s weirdest nightmare – Data had insisted on “sleeping” in the same bed with him, half-tangled up under the sheets. Except that it had been different to get tangle with him, given the weight of Data’s limbs. They still hadn’t been able to figure out what to do with Data’s arm when spooning, because sleeping with it underneath Geordi was impossible, like sleeping with a metal pipe pressed against his ribs. Geordi had shot down Data’s suggestion of detaching it while they slept.

“No,” Data admitted. “No, I do not.”

If that didn’t about break Geordi’s heart. He almost wanted to cry over it – he _had_ cried over it, during the day, when things got too stressful and Geordi could find no way to help. “I’m sorry, Data. Really. I – you know I’m going to be part of your life, no matter what, right? Even if I’m galaxies away. You can always count on me.”

“Thank you. I would also like to be in your life.” Data accepted it. With his head against Data’s shoulder, Geordi could hear his “heartbeat” throughout his entire body. It sounded nearly identical to a human heartbeat, if only louder. A flick through the VISOR could answer why – Data’s equivalent to a heart didn’t cause the noise so much as the rapid constriction and dilation to Data’s equivalent of blood vessels. “I will still continue my endeavor to simulate humanity as much as I am able.”

The idea was almost laughably bizarre, given the situation they found themselves in. Geordi couldn’t even suppress a snort of surprise. “Seriously? I mean, Data, if anything, I thought that this would prove to you how terrible humanity is. We’re really just this, this – big messy ball of selfishness and anger.”

“You are incorrect. Yes. I have thought about reconsidering my purpose, given what has occurred. The injustices I have seen, not only against myself. But even with this, I have seen enough examples to convince me that my purpose is not only worthwhile, but admirable.”

“Examples?” Geordi couldn’t imagine.

Data’s response came swiftly. “You, Geordi. You have proved more than the worth of Starfleet principles to me. While I have you in my life, proving the worth of being human, I will still follow my purpose. Nobody can rob me of that.”

Before Geordi could respond (and what could Geordi say to _that,_ really?), Data had turned to wrap his arms around him fully. Geordi hugged him back fiercely, chin pressed against Data’s shoulder. They didn’t say a word for minutes. Geordi alternatively had to fight back tears and even something harder: a sob. The world was full of shades of gray, but sometimes, there was simply good and there was simply evil. And even the _probability_ that someone might not see that was enough to embitter him. The only light on them was from Geordi’s nightstand lamp, creating fleeting shadows around the room.

Geordi retracted from the hug just long enough to kiss him, again, and again, and again.

***

Geordi woke the next morning to the sound of rain pattering against the window, and he could only hope that wasn’t a sign.

He ignored his communicator while he got ready. Everyone in his life knew about the trial, and probably everyone out of his life, too. Mom and Pops had showed their support, but Geordi had just found it difficult to talk about with them. They didn’t know Data like he did – _nobody_ knew Data like he did, and sometimes it felt like people wouldn’t really understand. His friends had provided ample support, but Geordi felt the ball of anxiety in his stomach grow tighter whenever he thought about seeing them. He couldn’t just _hang out,_ not when Data’s future was in the balance.

Data had departed from Geordi’s dormitory earlier that morning to meet with his counsel and to request permission for Geordi to attend that day. He had woken Geordi before he’d gone, explaining this. With his VISOR off and half-asleep, Geordi had groggily stroked Data’s face and wished him luck.

Now, he wished that he’d gone with him. Walking across the field alone made Geordi feel like he was in some sort dream. The orchestra that he’d taken Data to on their first date were rehearsing in the field.

 _I’ve only taken Data on one date,_ Geordi realized with a start. What if the court didn’t decide in Data’s favor? While he was sure that Data wouldn’t just up and disappear the next day – it would be in bad taste to just take Data out like everything was normal, wasn’t it? What if that first date was the only one that he’d ever get to take Data on? They’d never get their chance to be two cadet lovebirds, not _really,_ and -

He was going to work himself up, thinking like this. Geordi shoved all those thoughts away and just walked, getting to the courtroom.

As he walked in, Geordi thought there was no reason why that door had to be so loud. All the heads in the room turned to look at him. Four or five heads of the Admiralty, the counsel for both sides, Kagrin and Korlack (wow, they really weren’t happy to see him, huh?), and Data. Data raised one hand in greeting before turning back to examine the papers on the table in front of him.

Usually, these honor council things were a popular affair. Every cadet wanted to come and see who was going to get screwed over/not-screwed over. For that reason, the watching area was lecture-style, with rows of steadily raised chairs. All empty now. Geordi slid into the front row and folded his hands in front of him, staring at the Admiralty sitting pretty in the front of the room.

God, but they did look imposing. All dressed in their formals, with medals and buttons splashed across the front. Admiral Zheng sat in the direct middle. Her gaze, Geordi thought, lingered on him a little more than the others.

There were PADDs scattered in front of the Admiralty. Geordi knew it was fruitless, but he flicked through every filter that the VISOR had to offer. Nothing let him read the papers from this far back.

He was cut off from trying, eventually, from the sound of Admiral Zheng clearing her throat at the front. “With everyone present,” she spoke, “We’ve decided to begin.” There was a microphone clipped to her lapel, and her voice echoed throughout the large room.

Tense, Geordi reached forward and clung to the railing. _Please,_ he begged internally, _just get it over with. Just say what it is and give it over with._ Korlack, on the other side of the room, looked to be in similar states of distress. Kagrin had opted to look cocky instead, back in his chair with his arms crossed over one another. Geordi couldn’t see any more than the back of Data’s head.

“The Admiralty and I have reached a conclusion as to whether Cadets Tizer and Jazen have committed unacceptable breaches to Starfleet regulation, including but not limited to destruction of Starfleet property, reckless endangerment, and conspiracy to commit aggravated assault. It should be noted that this decision does not constitute a criminal verdict, and such consequences must be determined in a criminal court of law.”

Geordi wasn’t breathing.

“Should the cadets be found to be in unacceptable breach of conduct, they will be dishonorably discharged from Starfleet and will be further banned from Starfleet grounds, nor will they be able to enlist in Starfleet in any professional or personal capacity.”

If he passed out here, then Geordi wouldn’t have to listen to this decision.

“After careful review of the evidence – and witness accounts from Cadets Data, La Forge, Tizer, and Jazen, as well as Professor Falahadra from the Engineering department – we have come to a decision.” Admiral Zheng took a deep breath. She was reading directly from the PADD. “The Admiralty and I have came to a majority verdict. We, on behalf of Starfleet, have determined that the two cadets in question committed the offenses of which they are accused.”

The entire room went up in uproarious applause. Or – at least, Geordi was convinced of that, until he realized that was the sound of the blood rushing in his ears. He had leaned so far forward that his head was resting on the metal bar. Good luck, too, because Geordi felt like he was about to hyperventilate. “Oh, _god,”_ he whispered under his breath.

He missed what Admiral Zheng said next in lieu of pulling himself together. The next thing he was aware of were fingers brushing his own from where they grasped the bar. Geordi raised his head.

Data had turned around from the table to face him, stretching up on his tiptoes so that he could _just_ reach the observer’s section. He stroked his fingers along Geordi’s own. “Are you alright, Geordi?” He asked in a whisper, tone implying no form of excitement or joy. There was only concern in his eyes.

Geordi’s heart was on fire. “Yeah. Yeah, hon.” He was smiling, beaming larger than he ever had. He removed one hand so he could grab Data’s own, giving it a squeeze. “You did it. I knew you would.”

Data’s counsel was standing, a PADD clutched in his hands. “Thank you for your determination, Admiral Zheng,” he spoke. “In lieu of traditional closing remarks, Cadet Data requested to give his own directly to the cadets in question.”

Oh? Geordi’s eyes flicked over to Kagrin and Korlack. Korlack had leaned so far forward that his head rested on the table. Kagrin looked like he’d been shot, slumped back against the chair as he was. He stared straight ahead, glassy-eyed.

“Acknowledged,” Admiral Zheng noted from her spot.

An awkward silence grew around the courtroom. Data didn’t turn around. Eventually, his counsel turned to look at his client and gave a little cough. Data didn’t seem to notice. Geordi eventually wrinkled his nose, almost chuckling, and dropped Data’s hands. “Think that’s your cue, rockstar.”

“Oh!” Data released Geordi’s hand to turn and examine the courtroom. He seemed to compose himself – not that Data ever looked _un_ -composed, really, before he turned on his heel to face the cadets.

Neither looked at him. They had to be aware of it, though, Geordi knew that, because Kagrin jutted his jaw out stubbornly. Data walked from behind the table to cross the courtroom, eventually coming to a stop in front of their table. Kagrin couldn’t avoid looking at him, there, and his stare hardened into a glare.

“Starfleet was founded on the principles of intergalactic unity and progress,” Data started. His tone was soft and gentle, like he were explaining something to a young child. He was standing maybe an inch too close to the table to be natural. “To come together, as sentient beings, and to control and protect the galaxy. Contact was made with species that no Federation member could ever have predicted. Species with culture and biology that had been, previously, unfathomable.

Instead of taking alarm, Starfleet worked to understand them. To sympathize with them, and to offer them the protection and friendship that they had extended to all others. To provide technology to safely and comfortably involve them in intergalactic matters. The aims of Starfleet are not to conquer, but to include.”

Data raised his hand to rest on the table. Korlack hadn’t raised his head from the table, but the sound of his aspirator seemed to hitch. Kagrin only glared.

“I am an android. I am not a person in the court of law. In many ways, I am not like you or any other sentient being. I still have many aspects that I do not fully comprehend myself. Regardless of this, I was allowed to prove myself. Starfleet saved me, repaired me, and told me that I was worth dignity and humanity.

Your actions against me and my romantic partner, Geordi La Forge, are not in accordance to principles of Starfleet. You have treated me like a common object, simply because I am not like you. Because you could not understand.” Data’s expression turned mildly strained. “I did not think it was difficult to understand. I do not understand many aspects of sentient beings. I do not understand many aspects of my friends and the people I admire. I do not understand humanity. But I understand that it is not my place to make determinations as to their worth, even if I am superior in physical and computational abilities.

I do not find my belief in Starfleet or the Academy shaken because of your actions against me. It remains firm, because … “ Data leaned forward the table, bending somewhat at the hip so he could speak directly into the cadets faces. “I am still here. And you are not.”

A muscle was jumping in Kagrin’s jaw. Fire burned in his eyes, and he looked like he was debating on how bad it could be if he tried to throw himself at the android. Data didn’t comment on it. Instead, his lips spread in a wide, pleased smile.

He bent straight and turned on his heel to face the Admiralty. “I have no further comments.”


	18. Epilogue

“Two weeks longer, you said?” Doing some calculations in his head, Geordi reached for his PADD and pulled up the calendar. His mother and father were on the screen in front of him. “I’ll have to check the shuttle launches, but yeah, I’m sure we could make it to stay hi. We’ve got nothing else going on.”

“We really ought to meet him in _person,_ Geordi. And how long has it been since we’ve seen you, actually?” His mother asked, raising an eyebrow. “A year?”

“It hasn’t been a year – “ Geordi cut himself off to think. Oh, wow. It had actually been nearly a year. That was the danger of being a kid with two Starfleet parents.

His father corrected his math first. “It’s been a year and a month. I’ve got it marked down on the calendar.” Both his mother and father were sitting on a bench. Behind him was the promenade of some starbase. It looked like it was one of the nicer ones, too, with plenty of sunshine and green spaces. Geordi felt himself jealous, even if he had plenty of sunshine and green spaces here. “Plus, Geordi, you won’t believe it. They’ve got this astronautical history museum here, it really is spectacular. How they’ve managed to get some of this stuff, I don’t know.”

“I’ve been taken twice already,” his mother replied, feigning amused frustration. “It’s your turn to endure it.”

“Now, does that sound cool. Do they have some of the First Contact-era starships, Pops?” Geordi always wanted to see one in person. There was only so much that holosuites could recreate.

“I haven’t found any, but would you believe that they have _the_ warp engine that Zefram Cochrane did his experiments – “

“You’re _kidding.”_ Geordi gaped in surprise. “Seriously? How’d they manage to get that? _Man,_ I didn’t even think that was still _around.”_

His mother rolled her eyes at the two of them. She rubbed her husband’s shoulder. Geordi had noted earlier that she looked relaxed, but she had once said that she never _really_ relaxed unless all of her family was in one place.

Speaking of Data – Geordi heard a knock at the door. His eyes dipped to the time, and he winced. “Oh, man. I lost track of time. I’ve got a date in ten minutes, Mom and Pops, could we talk later? I promise I’ll look up the shuttle schedules.”

“ _Ooooh,”_ a voice sounded from off-screen. “Geordi’s got a date with his boyfriend.”

“ _Shut up!”_ It was an instinctive response to his sister. “You’re _married,_ Ariana, you’re not allowed to give me that anymore.”

He heard her take a breath like she had some rebuttal, but the soft glare his mother gave off-screen was enough to stop it. “You’ll wait until you’re in person if you want to fight.” She looked down at Geordi again, and her eyes softened the way they always did when she knew they had to say goodbye.

Geordi had waited approximately six hours after the verdict to tell his family what had happened. That was when Data had finally separated himself long enough to go and get lunch from the replicator downstairs ( _Geordi, it is three in the afternoon, and humans require sustenance on a semi-regular basis)._ Data had come back while Geordi was still on the call, and his parents had celebrated with him. It had warmed Geordi’s heart considerably.

That had been a few months ago, now. They had finished their first year of Starfleet Academy last week. Now, they had about a month to enjoy before starting up classes again. Geordi couldn’t say that bothered him at all. His classes next semester were a little more rigorous than the beginner stuff, so maybe he’d get a real _challenge_ for once. Not to brag, of course, but he’d been top of the class for engineering (with Lyra at an exceptionally close second).

Geordi hadn’t heard any more from Kagrin or Korlack. They were going through the criminal trial process now, and occasionally Data would be pulled in for this or that. They hadn’t contacted Geordi yet. Data didn’t talk about it much, but Geordi got the impression that the question of personhood was a lot more arduous than either of them had thought. It pissed him off, so he tried not to think about it too much. Data was happy, and those cadets were no longer in Starfleet. The battle had been won.

He hopped up from the bed to get the door. And there stood Data, dressed in … civilian clothing. Jeans and a striped button-up, actually. Geordi blinked at him a few times. “Uh,” he got out. “What’s _this?”_ He realized that he’d never seen Data without a cadet uniform on – that wasn’t true, actually. He’d either seen Data naked or with a cadet uniform on, no in-between.

Data looked down at himself. “Is this appropriate datewear, Geordi? I have noticed that most cadets do not often wear uniforms when outside Academy grounds. However, studies of fashion have left me puzzled.”

If Geordi had to consider it objectively, he’d say that Data looked like the one and only time his father ever tried to barbecue. All that he was missing was socks and sandals. The jeans were the color of the sky and the shirt pattern could most definitely be found on a tablecloth somewhere. _But._ “You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, Data. Honest.” His smile only widened when Data leaned down to give him a peck.

Yeah, he’d say the relationship was going pretty good.

Today, they were venturing out into San Francisco to the non-Federation docks. One of the largest trading starships ever designed was going to be hauled out to sea and blasted off into space. Geordi had been pouring over the schematics for a week and the design was just _phenomenal,_ really, practically poetry put into very literal motion. The actual send off was going to smell like exhaust and dock-water, probably. But Geordi was excited for it.

Things hadn’t gone back to “normal” until a month or two after the trial. That was about when Geordi stopped feeling so cautious whenever they went outside, and it was rare that they went out without one or two of their friends for company/protection. Geordi just hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that someone else was going to have it out for Data, and that it was just a matter of time.

Data, maybe, was the biggest push for him to get back to normal. As soon as the trial had ended, Data was no longer concerned with it. He had no need for a recovery period. He simply went about his day as he always did, and even though Data had thanked Geordi many times for what he did – well, Geordi couldn’t help but feel that Data was the real hero in all of this.

He was just an engineer, after all. And yeah, he’d done some pretty spectacular feats of engineering, but Data _obviously_ didn’t know what he was talking about when he called Geordi a hero.

Still made him blush, though.

“I have sent the filter I developed to your VISOR, Geordi,” Data commented. As they left Geordi’s room, they grasped hands. “It should overlay the schematics of the trading vessel with your visual input, so you will be able to compare the two in real-time. Please alert me if there are any errors.”

Yeah, he was a lucky guy. They’d gotten six months in, and Geordi couldn’t be happier with him. “You got it,” he agreed, giving their hands a swing. They’d even discussed about moving in with each other for the second year. If that was too early, Geordi didn’t know, but it was getting kind of cramped sharing his tiny dormitory with another person all the time. Not that he’d ever tell Data as much, anyway. “Oh, by the way, my parents want to meet you. They managed to swing shore leave together. Ariana’s there, even. Thought it might be nice to spend a few days seeing them.”

Data’s eyes lit up. “ _Oh!_ That is to be expected in long-term romantic relationships. I would like to meet your family in person, Geordi. Your sister has promised to tell me several stories about your childhood.”

“Since when do you talk – “ Not the point. Sometimes Geordi had to pick his battles with Data. “Yeah, I thought it’d work out pretty nice.” In his bag, Geordi’s PADD pinged.

“I have sent a proposed travel itinerary to you. We could leave tomorrow morning.”

Geordi wasn’t sure why he was still surprised, but he was. “That eager, huh?”

Stepping into the lift, Data gave a shrug. He had been focusing a lot on physical gestures recently. Just yesterday, he’d received a couple of dozen thumbs up and thumbs down. “You are a man that I care for, Geordi, and it is meaningful to me that I am a part of your life. Is that acceptable?”

Geordi didn’t want to say that it was just acceptable. It was fantastic, it was thrilling, it was reaffirming to have someone like Data in his life. It was amazing. It made him feel like he could do anything in the world. It made him feel like he _was_ doing something. Data was his perfect partner, understanding Geordi’s frustrating tendencies towards overwork and knowing when to gently pull him away. Geordi was getting to the point where he couldn’t imagine his life without him, and that didn’t frighten him at all. It was just how things were.

“Yeah,” he chirped, feeling drunk on love. The turbolift door reached the bottom and they both stepped out, hand-in-hand. “It sure is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it, all! This story turned out to be so much longer than I ever expected - when I first planned the plot, it was intended to be a short fic that ended right after the party scene, but that didn't hit all the notes I wanted to see in the characters. So here we are, 70k words later. Thank you to everyone who's stuck around and thank you to everyone who just read it all in one go. It's been an absolute blast to write. LLAP, all! :-)

**Author's Note:**

> Feels good to start another longfic! This work will get a new chapter every Saturday.


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